


The Way Back

by beaglesinbowties (Girlblunder)



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drama, F/F, References to Abuse, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Violence, references to sexual abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2018-12-23 01:13:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11979003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Girlblunder/pseuds/beaglesinbowties
Summary: It's been years since Wynonna's been back to her hometown of Purgatory. That all changes when she gets an email letting her know her Uncle Curtis is dead—and that her beloved older sister has finally moved back home.In a world without revenants, but with the same shitty dad, the fate of the Earp sisters is only so much kinder. (No Magic/Curse AU)





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter is predominantly about Willa and Wynonna, with only very light Wynaught interactions. There's even a bit of Willa & Nicole.
> 
> Please heed the tags. This *is* slow burn, but there's also a lot of sensitive issues involved in the story of the Earp sisters.
> 
> I'm only halfway through season 2, but I can say I've mostly been pleasantly surprised.

* * *

When Wynonna finally remembers how to access the email Waverly had set up for her sometime last October, there’s a slew of messages waiting in the inbox. She winces at the long list of unanswered emails, knowing Waverly will be upset.

Two messages stand out amidst the rest, partly for the moniker of ‘gus_1952’ attached to them, and partly for the all caps in the subject line.

Her stomach feels like falls to her feet when she reads the latest one, dated only yesterday.

 _UNCLE CURTIS’S FUNERAL_ , it boldly proclaims. Wynonna can only stare, at a loss of what to feel about the uncle she’d always loved most, but had ultimately not wanted to put up with her presence, either.

She drops her hand to her abdomen, her eyes drawn to the much older message dated a little over six months ago.

_WILLA IS HOME._

All at once she feels dizzy, hands shaking as she leans back in the rickety old chair.

Willa.

She feels numb at first, only able to stare unblinkingly at the old flickering screen. 

Loud, rapid-fire Greek startles her from her stupor. The world around her comes rushing back. She hurriedly closes her email and makes for her room. The money she’d saved up from stripping for another trip to Athens (she really loves the ancient feel of the Acropolis) will find new use.

Willa has returned to Purgatory. That means…

_Wynonna’s stomach is tense and her palms are sweaty as she approaches the rundown apartment building. It had taken her a while to hunt her sister down—and more money than any 17-year-old would normally have access to— but Wynonna had been determined. Things hadn’t been the same since Willa had been shipped off by child welfare to find a ‘better environment to heal’ or whatever._

_She swallows and wipes her hands on her ragged jeans. Purgatory hasn’t been the same without Willa. Wynonna loves Waverly, but Willa has always been the one that has truly understood Wynonna. Willa is her best friend, not just her sister._

_Wynonna takes a shaky breath before ascending the steps and nervously tapping out something resembling a knock. The green paint is peeling in most places, the wood warped in more spots than one. Wynonna doesn’t care. She needs to see Willa._

_There’s muffled words that could sound something like ‘who is it’ but Wynonna can’t be sure._

_The door creaks open and wary green eyes peer past the chain._

_“Wynonna,” comes the whisper a second before the door is slammed closed followed by loud sounds of the chain being rapidly undone._

_When the door swings open the next time there’s warm arms and endless tears and Wynonna finally feels like she’s come home._

_They talk for hours and Wynonna never wants to leave Willa’s side ever again._

_“Wynonna,” Willa says with lowered eyes, “I can’t help you right now. I… I’m still trying to work through some stuff. I’d be no good to you.”_

_Wynonna’s chest is tight. She hadn’t asked if she could live with Willa. She hadn’t._

_But… maybe she’d hoped. “Right, yeah,” Wynonna says around the sudden thickness in her throat. Her eyes sting but she shrugs and acts nonchalant. She’d gotten from twelve to seventeen on her own, after all._

_Gus and Curtis hadn’t wanted her after the first time they’d had her committed. She’d survived._

_The hand on her face is warm and soft, and Wynonna closes her eyes to absorb the affection she’s been missing since she was twelve and Willa was fourteen._

_“Nona,” Willa whispers._

_Wynonna bravely opens her eyes and stares. There’s something in Willa’s expression…_

_“A lot of stuff happened you don’t know about, Nona. I can’t… I need to fix myself before I can take care of you. I love you, Nona, and I want to be able to show that to you and take care of both of us. I can’t do that yet.” Willa laughs, but the sound is anything but joyful. She waves her arms around. “I can barely take care of myself.”_

_And Wynonna thinks back to the night everything changed, the night when she’d walked in on Daddy and Willa in the barn, how battered and bloody Willa had been and how_ evil _Daddy had looked and—Wynonna still doesn’t regret picking up Wyatt’s old gun._

_She does regret losing Willa._

_Willa had protected her for twelve long years. The least Wynonna can do is give her the time she needs. “I get it,” she replies as she forces a smile on her face. She searches Willa’s face, memorizing every last millimeter of it while she can. “When you’re ready, let Gus know. I don’t care how long it takes. I love you, Willa.”_

_They hug and cry a little more, and when Willa falls asleep in the circle of Wynonna’s arms, Wynonna sits a little while longer before slipping out of the tiny apartment._

Wynonna takes in a slow, deep breath. The world around her seems that much more vibrant. Willa’s ready. Willa’s been ready for at least six months.

She only offers distracted explanations to her temporary roommates, ultimately not caring what they think or want because it’s been nearly _ten years_ since the last time Wynonna saw Willa and that’s all she can think about.

It isn’t until she’s on the second plane headed in the general direction of Canada that Wynonna remembers Curtis’s funeral. 

Well, there’s that too, Wynonna thinks as she orders some whiskey.

***

Nicole checks both ways before turning the wheel to pull out onto Purgatory’s main road. Patrol is boring but she manages. She’s been on the job in Purgatory for nearly eight months now—boring is better than the habitual alternative of what is usually drunken, often domestic, violence. Her phone buzzes and she instinctively knows who it is. She pulls over again at the first opportunity.

‘ _How’s patrol?_ ’ reads Waverly’s text.

For a moment, Nicole frowns. Waverly’s been acting odd since Curtis’s death, seeming mostly fine on the surface. After a month and a half of dating, Nicole has come to realize that Waverly functions by ignoring _everything_ bad. It’s not healthy, but so far Nicole hasn’t gotten far in convincing Waverly of that.

She licks her lips and taps out a quick, ‘Fine, thanks for asking.’

Purgatory is as close to bustling as it can be for this time of day, with far too many people heading to Shorty’s on what are probably empty stomachs. Nicole tries not to frown as she peers further down the road to the bar’s parking lot.

Curtis’s death has left its mark on the small town, what with the older man’s farm and half-owned Shorty’s (somehow now everyone’s favorite bar even though it’s mid-afternoon on a Wednesday) having been such constants in everyday life.

It takes her a little longer to pull onto the main road the second time. She debates lingering around Shorty’s to remind anyone thinking about driving home to dinner after imbibing way too much liquor that that’s a bad idea.

The brown file folders on the passenger seat slide onto the floor when she makes the sharp turn toward Shorty’s.

She curses under her breath but doesn’t reach for the files until she’s shifted safely into park and turned the patrol car off.

Her hands rub over the smooth feel of the cardstock. She feels a little guilty for having the folders, particularly the one belonging to Willa, but Nicole had been in a hurry to grab the files from Nedley’s office before getting caught.

The one labeled Earp, Willa had been read months ago at Willa’s own behest—after a tense argument that had left Nicole wondering what possible grudge Waverly might have against her eldest sister—and so it had seemed natural to dig out the one labeled Earp, Wynonna when Gus had made it clear to her that the slim chance of her no-good niece’s return was still too big of a chance for comfort.

_“So why tell her if you don’t want her to come?” Nicole frowns at the much older woman, examining the wrinkles that seem far deeper since Curtis’s heart attack. To say they’d all been caught by surprise would be an understatement. Curtis had always been as healthy as a horse, always insisting on having fresh vegetables from his own personal garden._

_Gus snorts, eyes watery as she looks out over the farm. “Much as I don’t like it, she_ is _family.”_

_In spite of the fact that Nicole knows and respects Gus (how could she not respect the woman that had taken Waverly in at the tender age of six?), she feels a pang of sympathy for the Earp sister she’s never met._

_She pushes the feeling away. Though the Earp sisters have had a rough upbringing, Gus’s disapproval means something too. Nicole makes up her mind to dig up Wynonna’s file at the first opportunity._

Nicole shakes her head. Wynonna’s file is far thicker than Willa’s.

She doesn’t understand it, really. According to the files, Willa had borne the brunt of Ward Earp’s temper, had been the one to fumble for the antique pistol one night to stop the man Purgatory had treated something like a saint but had actually been a devil.

Maybe the shock of it had been too much for a tender-aged Wynonna, but it didn’t excuse the long list of incident reports still kept on file.

Willa had turned things around, had become a respectable member of the town devoted to helping children victim to terrible parents in a way she’d only ever been helped when it had already been too late. Nicole has come to respect Willa through her work in child welfare, having made contact with her far too many times on domestic calls.

Wynonna? Well, based on the few calls Nicole had made to other departments, she doubts Wynonna Earp has turned around anything that wasn’t a bottle in years.

Nicole doesn’t realize her frown has deepened until she catches sight of it in her rearview mirror. She sighs and relaxes her expression. 

Wynonna Earp is trouble with a capital T and Nicole certainly doesn’t want her back in Purgatory.

Ever. 

She tosses the files back to the passenger seat with a silent reminder to herself to put them back where she found them.

No matter what happens, she’ll look out for Waverly. 

And Willa, she silently adds as she grabs her hat and opens her door.

***

Purgatory is just like Wynonna remembers it. The worn buildings with weathered wood and faded, chipped paint leave her feeling empty in their familiarity. She hefts her duffle more firmly against her shoulder. It’s been three years since her last visit—had that been Waverly’s graduation? It’s hard to remember. 

It had been another year Willa hadn’t come back. 

After that one, her yearly trip had become a yearly call. It’d been better that way, she’d assured herself. Waverly had been head cheerleader, homecoming queen. She didn’t need her screw-up of an older sister around embarrassing her.

Wynonna realizes should have refilled her flask the first chance she got. She’d been too preoccupied to do more than anything but think. And think. She’s damn tired of it.

Willa’s here this time, she assures herself. But…

Though Willa had been warm and welcoming the last time they’d met, would that have changed? It had been Wynonna’s fault Willa had been taken away. Maybe that’s why Willa hadn’t really been willing to try nearly a decade ago.

Her mouth is suddenly too dry. She shakes her head and turns herself toward Shorty’s. She doesn’t even know where to start, she reasons as her boots thud against the gravel street. It won’t hurt to take a few moments respite in the shade of the bar. A drop of whiskey would be both helpful and refreshing.

Stepping into Shorty’s is like stepping into the past—all the old Wyatt Earp memorabilia is still exactly as she remembers them. She half expects to see Daddy set up at the bar, still in uniform. 

She’s too sober for this. That’ll be remedied soon enough.

Wynonna strides over to the bar as quickly as possible without drawing attention to herself. Most people are more than halfway into their cups already. It isn’t until she’s at the bar that her shoulders relax. No one recognizes her, save Shorty himself.

“Well, either I'm sucking fumes out of the back of Willie Nelson's tour bus or Wynonna Earp just walked into my bar.” Shorty’s eyes crinkle up warmly as he smiles at her and sets a bottle of whiskey down.

To Wynonna’s relief, everyone in a close enough radius to have overheard Shorty is too drunk to care. She smiles back at him. “Hey, Shorty. How’s tricks?” A quick shrug of her shoulder has her duffle down, and then she’s settling on a stool.

“You know the usual. Damn mechanical bull broke down again, so I’m afraid you’re not gonna be able to hustle anyone for money tonight.” His smile disappears and he grasps the bottle of whiskey again. “Sorry to hear about your uncle.”

“Me, too.” And though Wynonna has been thinking of Willa since she’d gotten the email the day before, she spares a moment to think of Curtis. He hadn’t been a bad guy. He might have even loved her, in his own way. At least he’d felt guilty enough about not taking her in to help her out from time to time. 

It’s more than she got from anyone else.

“This one’s on me,” Shorty says quietly as he sets a tumbler down and hefts a bottle of whiskey.

Well, anyone else claiming to be family. She grins at Shorty as he pours her a healthy shot.

Wynonna does her best not to lick her lips. “Thanks, but, just the one. I’m here for Willa. And Waverly.”

“Did you say Waverly?” an unfamiliar voice cuts in.

Shorty twists the cap back on the whiskey, his attention settled over Wynonna’s shoulder. His expression becomes neutral. “Gotta get something from the cellar,” he says as he retreats from behind the bar.

Wynonna picks up the tumbler of whiskey, carefully sloshing the liquid around and admiring its color.

“I asked a question,” the voice insists steadily.

 _Law_ , Wynonna thinks as she tips the glass up to her lips and downs its contents in one long swallow. No matter what continent or country she finds herself at, it seems the cops are all taught the same arrogant tone.

“Are you in the habit of eavesdropping?” Wynonna asks as she turns her head to confirm her suspicion.

She smacks her lips in surprise. The voice had been too soft to be a man’s, but she hadn’t quite expected the fine figure of the woman only an inch or two taller than herself. Nedley had finally hired a woman. Wynonna wonders if he’d gotten too many complaints against all his other (rather handsy if she’s remembering correctly) male underlings.

“It’s kind of my job,” the woman says as she settles her hands on her duty belt.

Wynonna offers her a wide, fake smile and flutters her eyelashes. “Why Officer,” she reaches out to run a fingertip over the shiny name tag over the officer’s left breast pocket, “Haught, I had no idea.”

Officer Haught squints. “I haven’t seen you around here before. What’s your name?”

Though Wynonna knows her juvenile records should be sealed, she’s also aware that means jack shit in Purgatory. Gossip is one of the few things that thrives in the town. “Aphrodite to some,” Wynonna hedges.

“Aphrodite?” Officer Haught enunciates carefully as both her eyebrows arch up. “Right.”

“Aphrudite?!” another voice slurs out.

“Aw, shit.” Wynonna hurriedly turns back to face forward, slouching forward so her hair can partially hide her face.

Wynonna smells them before she sees them. She grimaces but doesn’t otherwise move, hoping the trio of drunken idiots will find something shiny to distract themselves with. One settles on the stool next to her.

“You fellas know Aphrodite, here?” Officer Haught drawls out. She sounds very pleased with herself.

“I hate cops,” Wynonna mutters under her breath.

A grubby hand reaches out as if to touch her hair. She jerks back and smacks it away, twirling on her seat to reach down to grab her duffle. She’s had her drink; she’ll have to fill her flask another time.

“Oh yeah, that’s Aphrodite,” another man says as she hops off her stool and heads for the door. “Also known as Wynonna Earp.”

Wynonna breathes easier once she’s outside. The cop knows who she is now. Well, whatever. It’s a long walk out to Curtis’s farm. She’ll cut through the fields to avoid the road. Though she could hitchhike out to the farm, it’s hours until the funeral and… and, well, Wynonna still isn’t sure if going is a good idea.

“Don’t chicken out now,” she scolds herself as she follows the dirt path behind Shorty’s. “Willa’s gonna be there.”

As she continues on she tries to ignore the twisting uncertainty in her stomach. Willa wouldn’t have come back at all if she didn’t want to see Wynonna.

_“He got you good, Willa,” Wynonna says as she carefully presses a cool wet cloth to the corner of her sister’s mouth._

_“Nah,” Willa says with a wobbling smile, “he was so drunk he tripped over his own feet. He hardly got me at all.”_

_Wynonna drops her hand to stare into Willa’s shining green eyes. “If you say so,” she finally whispers._

_Willa’s chin tilts stubbornly. “I do.” The sheen of tears slowly dissipates. “Let’s go to the barn.”_

_The wet cloth is forgotten as Willa stands and retrieves a flashlight from the hallway closet._

_Wynonna is tempted to apologize—it’d been her that had set Daddy off this time—but she knows Willa will simply roll her eyes and say Daddy’s an asshole and it’s Willa’s job to look out for Wynonna anyway._

_She wipes her damp hand over her pajamas. “Okay.” The fear and anxiety fades as they sneak out of the house, not caring about the way the old wood groans and whines. Waverly’s been asleep for hours, and Daddy’s loud snores can surely be heard out across town._

_Barn time is their time. They’ve got blankets and an atlas tucked away in the hay, and they can latch the door if they’re feeling brave. If Daddy wakes up he won’t be able to get in, and there’s a chance he’ll be too drunk to remember their defiance in the morning._

_“Where are we going today?” Wynonna excitedly asks as Willa grips the heavy piece of wood that’ll bar the door._

_“Anywhere but Purgatory,” Willa hisses out viciously as the wood thuds down into place._

_Wynonna sucks in a breath, her hand tentatively reaching for Willa’s._

_The hard expression that's settled over Willa’s face eases. She blinks, and then it seems like her eyes are sparkling. “What about Australia?”_

_“Australia? We could wrestle kangaroos for a living!”_

_Wynonna clutches Willa’s hand more firmly as her sister laughs. It’s a deep, rich sound—but again Willa’s eyes are shining too bright._

_One day Willa won’t have to cry anymore, Wynonna swears._

_Willa sends Wynonna a small, genuine smile. “Then let’s get to it,” she coaxes as she leads the way to the loose pile of hay that hides their treasures._

***

Curtis would approve of the funeral, Nicole thinks. No muss, not much fuss, but with nearly all the friends and family of Purgatory that had regarded him fondly present. The ranch house is pristine despite the crowd, but Nicole can’t say she’s surprised. Gus has always run a tight ship from what Waverly has said.

As she peers across the room, she accidentally meets Gus’s eyes. She offers a sympathetic look. 

Gus purses her lips and nods before turning to address one of the other mourners.

Nicole doesn’t take it personally, though she swallows and rubs her hands over the skirt of her simple black dress.

“She’s still upset you pointed out that he couldn’t be buried in the garden,” comes a low voice.

“Willa,” Nicole greets with a genuine smile. She takes a moment to admire Willa’s dress; it’s black with an empire waist, and there’s a smattering of delicate pink roses stitched out along the hem. With Willa’s hair down, she exudes a softly peaceful and feminine aura. Nicole’s seen it work wonders on the troubled children of Purgatory.“How are you doing?”

Willa’s own smile is subdued. “I’m okay. We were never that close. But we were family.” She sighs and looks out the window. The slight rise of the small hill where Curtis will be buried can be seen from their position. She minutely shakes her head and focuses back on Nicole. “Where’s Waverly?”

Nicole shifts her weight from foot to foot. It’s awkward being caught between both sides of this particular Cold War, but Nicole respects Willa too much to give in to Waverly’s none-too-subtle dislike of her eldest sister.

“She had to work,” Nicole finally says.

Willa’s eyebrows slowly rise. “ _Shorty_ is here. _I’m_ here. Curtis practically raised her, and she couldn’t get away from waitressing for a few hours?” 

If Willa’s tone was anything but serene, Nicole might be offended on Waverly’s behalf. She bites the inside of her lip. “She doesn’t do well with this sort of thing. You know that.”

Willa’s lips twitch and a moment later she brushes a hand over Nicole’s arm. “It was nice of you to come, no matter the reason.”

There’s a flicker of something in her expression that makes Nicole freeze; not more than two hours ago she’d seen that same look on someone else’s face. Just as Nicole is about to open her mouth to awkwardly explain that she’d finally met Wynonna, Willa freezes too.

Nicole blinks and turns to follow the direction of her eyes.

There, just inside the door, is Wynonna Earp.

She’s dressed the same as she was at Shorty’s; snug ripped jeans and a ragged old white v-neck with a worn black leather jacket thrown over it. The olive green duffle Nicole had seen her carrying around earlier is dropped to the side, forgotten. Wynonna’s blue eyes are trained to Nicole’s left. Right at Willa.

Nicole doesn’t have time to turn to Willa, because then Willa is rushing across the crowded living room to the front door.

It’s not the reaction Nicole has expected. Waverly has a love-slash-resentful relationship with Wynonna at best, resentment often overruling the love if any of her rants are anything to go by. And, Gus, well.

Nicole wishes she could see Willa’s face, wondering if it’s crumbling like Wynonna’s, eyes full of tears and lips trembling the closer the two sisters get.

She isn’t aware she’s holding her breath as Willa stops and says something, but then half a second later Willa’s arms are swinging wide and pulling Wynonna close.

Nicoles turns away when Wynonna buries her face against Willa’s hair, aware that their heaving shoulders are probably the result of deep sobs. She feels like the worst sort of voyeur—and is also uneasy about the contrast between how Gus and Waverly feel about Wynonna in comparison to how Willa apparently does.

Someone bumps into her and mumbles an apology, but Nicole is too lost in thought to care. She wishes she’d stopped Wynonna at Shorty’s earlier to… to say something. Ask more questions. Nicole had followed her outside, but some small sense of empathy had kept Nicole from calling out and delaying Wynonna’s fast retreat. Wynonna had lost an uncle, too, and hadn’t been trying to stir up any trouble at Shorty’s.

Nicole still should have stopped her.

As powerful a moment as the reunion between the two might have seemed, Nicole can’t forget the thick folder labeled Earp, Wynonna.

It’s been a lot longer since Willa’s seen Wynonna than Gus has, and maybe Willa’s still holding on to some old memories of Wynonna as her little sister.

Nicole crosses her arms and glances back to the doorway. Neither Earp sister is in sight. She rolls her jaw, frustrated with herself. It’s none of her business.

Except for the fact that Nicole really likes Waverly. And Willa.

Wild child Wynonna could easily hurt them both.

Briefly, Nicole regrets not coming to the funeral in uniform. Then again, she realizes, it might be easier to keep an eye on Wynonna without it.

Nicole could seek out the number of people she’s on friendly terms with at the party, but instead she finds herself looking for Willa.

“I need to talk to you, Nicole.” Gus’s familiar gruff voice immediately catches her attention. 

She straightens and nods at the diminutive woman. “Alright.”

Gus nudges her head over to the front entryway. Nicole doesn't hesitate to follow.

“That fool girl is back and she’s already thick as thieves with Willa,” Gus says without preamble. Her mouth is a hard line as she pauses. “When Willa first got back, I thought maybe her return might be a good influence on Wynonna, but—well, Wynonna never did bother showing up. It gave me time to realize that Willa’s done so much to pull her life back together and the _last_ thing she needs is Wynonna back and dragging her down.”

Nicole crosses her arms and hums her assent. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I plan to have a talk with Wynonna as soon as possible, but I know she’ll be on Willa like white on rice for as long as possible. I’d like you to keep an eye on them for me a bit. I know you and Willa get along and, even though you kept me from burying Curtis with his tomatoes, you’re good people.” Gus raises her chin as she finishes speaking, her hands braced on her hips.

“I’d already planned on it,” Nicole admits with a small shrug.

For a moment Gus’s eyes seem to twinkle. “Well get to it then. Last I saw they were huddled together on the back porch.”

“Yes ma’am.” It takes everything in Nicole not to offer a smart salute. She doesn’t need to be in Gus’s good graces, but she knows it makes things a little easier with Waverly.

She makes a beeline for the back porch.

***

For a long time Wynonna had wondered what it might be like to be reunited with Willa—worried, too, about how much she’d changed since they were kids. Those in Purgatory who don’t hate her couldn’t care less about her. Waverly’s been the only one that loves her, though Wynonna knows her little sister is still bitter about a lot of things.

Willa’s hand tightens on hers and draws her thoughts away. It’s like they’ve never been apart. Willa’s softer now, her eyes and smile open and welcoming, and if those looks had come from anyone else Wynonna would be _terrified_. But Willa isn’t just anyone.

They’ve already said so much in the scant twenty minutes since their reunion… Wynonna feels so happy that it scares her.

“Where’s Waverly?” Wynonna asks in a thick voice after they’ve finally gone silent again.

Willa’s nostrils flare as she stares out over the garden. “She had to work.”

Wynonna frowns and edges minutely closer to Willa. “On the day of Curtis’s funeral?”

It’s odd to hear. To her and Willa, Curtis had always just been Curtis, but to Waverly he’d always been ‘Uncle Curtis’.

“She has problems dealing with this sort of thing,” another, vaguely familiar voice quietly announces.

Wynonna carefully clears her face of emotion. “You stalking me, Officer?” The red-haired woman is no longer in uniform but she makes Wynonna feel uneasy all the same.

Again Willa’s hand squeezes her own. “Wynonna, this is Nicole Haught.”

“Nicole is fine,” Officer Haught says as she extends her arm for a handshake. Despite the casual introduction and the lack of uniform, Wynonna doubts she’ll be using the first name anytime soon.

“She’s dating Waverly. I also know her through work,” Willa adds in a gentle tone, “she’s something of a friend.”

The serious look on Officer Haught’s face eases into a smile as she looks at Willa.

Wynonna accepts the handshake quickly. “Wynonna Earp,” she says brusquely.

She’ll accept the woman’s presence for now, but her mind is racing with a thousand thoughts. Waverly is gay? Waverly is dating a _cop_?

She focuses on Willa’s warmth to her left. Willa likes this cop, too.

“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion,” Officer Haught says as the handshake ends, “but you ran off awful quick earlier.”

“Earlier?” Willa asks as she cants her head toward Wynonna.

Wynonna licks her lips. Willa doesn’t really know her or how she lives her life yet. With Officer Haught around, surely she’ll be ratted out. “I stopped by Shorty’s first to ask the man himself a few things.” She licks her lips again. “And for a shot of courage.”

As she speaks she keeps her eyes steady on Willa, her stomach queasy. She doesn’t want to admit she’s a drunk like Daddy was, but not admitting it won’t make it any less true. She’d never kept secrets from Willa.

To her relief, Willa only smiles. “I’m glad you came back.”

The tautness in Wynonna’s stomach is instantly gone. She’d forgotten what it was like, having someone solidly in her corner.

Officer Haught clears her throat, but before she can say anything, Gus’s voice carries loudly from inside. It’s time to put Curtis to rest.

With Willa still holding her hand, Wynonna doesn’t mind as much when the nosy Officer Haught follows them back inside.

*

“I can’t believe you moved back out to the homestead,” Wynonna says some hours later when they’re all back at Shorty’s in accordance with Curtis’s wishes. The old coot had wanted to buy one last round for his friends, Gus had announced.

Wynonna hadn’t said anything when Willa had left her shot of whiskey untouched, but she’d felt relieved when Willa had accepted a beer. Though she’d understand if Willa had wanted to never touch a drop of alcohol, Wynonna can admit she’s relieved that Willa isn’t a teetotaler. It makes her feel slightly less uncomfortable about her own enthusiastic drinking.

Willa’s fingertips idly slide over the curve of the glass beer bottle. “I never thought I would, either, but…” she pauses and looks up at Wynonna, a wry smile twisting her lips. “As bad as some of those old memories were, there were a lot of good ones there, too.”

“The place looks great,” Officer Haught adds from the other side of their small round table.

She’s smiling, a set of deep dimples revealing themselves to Wynonna.

Wynonna’s jaw works. She can understand a bit why her baby sister is dating this woman, maybe. Nicole Haught is hardly a troll.

“Nicole helped me a bit, actually.” Willa’s smiling too as she sends Nicole an affectionate look. “She’s pretty handy.”

When Nicole blushes and smiles, Wynonna raises her eyebrows. “You sweet on more than one Earp sister, Haught?”

Willa rolls her eyes and reaches over to slap lightly at her arm. “Nicole is nice.”

“Both your sisters are good people.”

Wynonna looks over to Nicole, only to be met with a strong, steady gaze.

“After the kinds of things I face at work, I try to protect that good wherever I find it. There’s always someone out to take advantage. Not on my watch.” Nicole’s eyes are intense. Wynonna has no doubt _she’s_ being warned off.

“Well that’s all well and good, flatfoot, as long as you’re not out to take advantage of both my sisters with the whole white knight routine.” Wynonna’s grin is wide but her muscles are taut.

“Nic,” Willa cuts in. She’s smiling, but her head is tilted up. “Us Earps can look after ourselves.” She gives Nicole a long look, her smile widening slightly when Nicole looks away.

Under the table, Willa’s hand finds Wynonna’s. The rigidity in Wynonna’s shoulders eases.

Wynonna might be a screw up, but all she wants is to be with her family again. She has no intention of causing Willa trouble. Though, she silently admits to herself, trouble does seem to have a problem finding her.

“You Earps are tough,” Nicole concedes, “but I look out for all my friends.”

“And that’s why I love you!” another voice interrupts.

Willa’s smile disappears and Nicole’s blossoms.

It takes Wynonna several moments to register the presence of her baby sister. She squeezes Willa’s hand once and then pushes back her chair to rise. “Waves!”

Waverly is dressed in a clingy white shirt with a brown skirt and matching tall boots, her hair neatly pulled back into a tail. She looks almost exactly the same as she did three years ago, less a little baby fat in her cheeks.

“Wynonna!” Waverly says, her eyes seeming to light up. She bypasses Nicole to squeeze Wynonna into a hug. “When did you get back?”

Wynonna smiles at her sister’s enthusiasm. “Just a few hours ago.” She doesn’t mention the funeral or Waverly’s absence.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Waverly clutches her hands together as the hug ends, almost bouncing in place as she grins up at Wynonna.

Her enthusiasm is almost enough for Wynonna to forget the audience to their reunion—namely, Officer Haught. She cocks her hip to the side and crosses her arms. “So, I hear you bat for the other team these days.”

Waverly’s face flushes and Willa releases an audible snort.

Wynonna grins, bypassing _the intruder_ to share a look with Willa. It’s good to be back.

***

“Wynonna here yet?” Nicole asks as she hefts her hammer. She pauses to wipe her lightly perspiring brow. She’d been helping replace some of the rotting wood out on the back porch at the homestead today. Wynonna was supposed to have returned home a while ago to help.

The ragged grey T with the sleeves cut off and a set of her old work jeans had been a good choice for today. Her dark hiking boots are worn and more than broken in.

“Nope,” Willa says placidly as she takes a sip from her glass of lemonade. She’s attired similarly to Nicole, though wearing sneakers in lieu of hiking boots. “She’ll be along shortly.”

Nicole releases a displeased breath. She peers at the now sturdy looking porch rail. “Managed to avoid doing any work again.” She keeps her tone light, not wanting to put Willa on the defensive.

In the weeks Wynonna has been back, she and Willa have only argued once about Wynonna. Willa had made it very clear that it’s none of her business, not if she wants to remain friends.

Despite her attempt at nonchalance, she can feel Willa’s gaze at the side of her face.

Willa sighs. “You really need to get over it, Nicole. She’s my sister.”

Nicole fidgets with her tool belt, looping her hammer back into place after a moment. They’re nearly done, anyway. “I just worry about you and Waverly.”

“So does Wynonna, Nicole. You think this is easy for her? It’s not. Our Daddy wasn’t the kindest man. Being back here is difficult.”

It’s the anger in her voice that makes Nicole look. Nicole purses her lips, meeting Willa’s eyes dead-on. “You’re handling it.”

Willa’s nostrils flare as her hands settle on her hips. “I was in government appointed therapy for years, Nicole. Wynonna didn’t have that.” Her eyes waver, her face crumpling slightly as she looks away. “Wynonna didn’t have anyone or anything after I was taken away.”

“She had Waver—”

“Waverly was _six_ , Nicole. And our good ol’ aunt and uncle didn’t want damaged goods around to spoil her. That’s the damn truth, and you need to get your head out of your ass before I kick it clear off my property.” Willa’s the angriest Nicole’s ever seen her, hands clenched into tight fists at her sides and cheeks flushed. It’s the same wild Nicole’s only seen a handful of times

Nicole raises her hands up in a placating gesture. “I wasn’t trying to fight, Willa. I know how Purgatory is, and I’ve read your files. It’s not the same, I know, but I do understand a bit. It’s just hard for me to wrap my head around Wynonna when you and Waverly are so… different.” She looks away and bites her lower lip; she’s been watching Wynonna like a hawk when able.

Before their discussion can continue, the distant sound of a motorcycle’s roar catches their attention.

“She’s almost here.” Calm descends on Willa, her posture relaxing and her usual smile reappearing.

Nicole tucks her hands into her pockets and hunches her shoulders, wondering if Wynonna’s been drinking and driving. It’s something Nicole’s suspected a time or two but hasn’t been able to confirm. Waverly eats up a lot of her free time, and there’s a large part of Nicole that’s wary of having her concerns validated. Though Willa and Waverly seem to hardly agree on anything, they both love Wynonna to bits.

She could arrest Wynonna, probably. Driving under the influence is hit-and-miss in Purgatory—alcoholism is rampant in the area, and Nedley’s just as likely to tell her to cut someone loose as to allow her to charge them. Wynonna is hardly anyone’s favorite, however, so Nicole’s sure she could get away with charging her.

Nicole just isn’t ready to face the wrath of her girlfriend and the best friend she’s made in Purgatory yet.

“Hey,” she says in a low voice to catch Willa’s attention, “I’m trying, okay?”

Willa blinks slowly. She nods. “I know.” The corners of her lips curl up slightly. “It’s the only reason I haven’t kicked you to the curb. Everyone in Purgatory’s already made up their mind about her. You’re better than that.”

When Nicole meets Willa’s eyes she wonders, just for a moment, what it is about the Earp sisters that draws her in.

The roaring of the motorcycle is its loudest now for another few seconds but then goes quiet. The crunch of booted feet on loose stones and brittle dirt can clearly be heard around the back of the house.

Wynonna joins them a moment later in her usual attire of jeans and leather jacket. She’s grinning. “Guess who got a job? The pay’s shit and the hours suck, but, hey, I got a job!”

Nicole doesn’t take it personally when Wynonna’s blue eyes move past her to settle on Willa. It’s Wynonna’s way of coping with her presence.

“That’s great, Wy. What place was smart enough to hire you?” Willa’s smile is nearly as bright as the sun.

“You know Mercedes Gardner? I was friends with her in school. She owns a couple places here in Purgatory. I’ll be the newest bouncer over at The Jack Shack.” Wynonna buffs her nails against her jacket.

“You? A bouncer?” Nicole gives her a slow once-over and shakes her head. “You sure you’re not the one that’s gonna get bounced?”

Wynonna laughs, a low and husky sound. Her narrow eyes twinkle with mischief when she finally favors Nicole with a look. “Wanna try me, Haught? We’ll see who bounces who.”

“Keep it in your pants, Nona.” Willa’s lips are pursed and Nicole can’t tell if she’s upset or amused. At Wynonna’s raised eyebrows, Willa continues, “No need to whip ‘em out right here to measure.”

Nicole looks from one sister to the other, shifting her weight uneasily from foot to foot.

“Now, now, Wills; we’d be here all day comparing toy boxes. What’s for dinner? I’m a growing girl.” Wynonna slings a playful arm over Willa’s shoulders and gives her a beseeching look.

“Waverly is going to bring by some pizza,” Nicole manages with a dry mouth. “Since we’ve been working on the house all day.” She never knows what to expect from Wynonna. Maybe that’s part of the reason Nicole feels wary around her.

“She bringing some beer, too? Maybe whiskey?” Wynonna wiggles her eyebrows at Nicole but her smile is displaced a moment later when Willa pinches her side. She winces and looks back at Willa. “Ow. What?”

Their eyes meet in a silent form of communication. Wynonna’s shoulders slump just slightly as she nods.

Nicole does her best not to frown. She gently clears her throat. “I think the only extra thing she’s bringing is some pop.”

“That’s fine,” Willa says. “Come on, let’s go inside for a while. We’ve earned a break.”

Everything aside, Nicole thinks as she follows the Earps into the house, the best part about Willa and Waverly loving Wynonna so much is how much they try to get along for her.

Before Wynonna had come to town, the times when Willa and Waverly would be found in the same room for more than five minutes without arguing could be counted on one hand. She tries to keep that in mind as she tries not to worry about how much Wynonna might have had to drink before coming home.

Though she’s glad Wynonna has found work, she doubts a bar like The Jack Shack is a good place for Wynonna’s drinking. The interview or whatever certainly hadn’t taken all day, but Nicole expects that’s where Wynonna had spent most of the day anyway.

She digs her phone out of her pocket after shutting the back door. “Let me just see where Waverly is with those pizzas.”

***

Wynonna rolls her tongue in her mouth, brushing it against the cut she’d incurred after failing to turn quickly enough to totally avoid a blow. Could have been worse. She sucks her teeth and lightly kicks the man slumped back against the exterior wall of the bar. “You’re lucky you’re drunk.”

She flexes her hands as she waits. The first hit had been instinctive and wild. She’d bruised her knuckles. The second had been more practiced, careful. Wynonna might not know a lot of things, but she knows how to fight.

The flashing lights catch her attention before the booted feet hit the ground. Her cheek twitches when she recognizes Nicole Haught’s figure—distinctive in its feminine curves from the rest of the male-dominated PD—exiting the parked patrol car.

The lighting of The Jack Shack parking lot isn’t great, but at least Wynonna can make out that much.

Nicole lets out a low whistle as she approaches. “Is that Emmet Gillory?”

Wynonna straightens and settles her hands on her hips. “Yep,” she confirms, popping the ‘p’ in what she hope is an annoyingly loud way.

As Nicole comes within the circle of low lights on either side of the entrance to The Jack Shack, to Wynonna’s great dismay, she seems anything but annoyed.

Nicole tips her hat back with a finger. “Damn. He must be two hundred and twenty pounds, easy.” When she looks back at Wynonna, she looks… impressed? “I guess The Jack Shack has found itself the right woman for the job.”

The compliment throws Wynonna off. She clears her throat in an attempt to recover, tilting her head back to show off her smirk. “Glad you figured that out, flatfoot. You gonna take him in?”

“You wanna press charges?” Nicole squints down at the still-sleeping Emmet.

Wynonna doesn’t seriously consider the offer. Emmet isn’t a bad guy, and is well-liked in town. He’d just gotten drunk and allowed his buddies to get under his skin. The last thing Wynonna needs is another reason for the citizens of Purgatory to give her the stink eye. “Nah. A night in the drunk tank should do him some good.”

Nicole, who’s squatted down to examine Emmet, looks back up at her. “You sure? Your lip looks like it’s still bleeding.”

“I’ve had worse,” Wynonna says with a shrug. “He got lucky. Or I got unlucky. He was trying to punch his friend. He kept fighting me and ended up on the ground… and then fell asleep. Tried waking him up. He didn’t budge. Dragged him out here so people wouldn’t trip over him.”

As if to emphasize her point, Emmet lets loose a particularly loud snore.

“Well, alright.” Nicole stands up and sighs. “I’m gonna need help getting him in the car.”

Wynonna considers letting her struggle. Just for a moment.

She lets out her own sigh and nods back toward the club. “Come on, flatfoot; you flash that badge and I bet his friends would be more than willing to lend a hand.”

Nicole snaps her fingers. “Good idea. The last thing I need is to pull a muscle or something.”

Wynonna almost makes a quip about the sort of things Nicole might want to do off-hours—but she quickly remembers that such off-hours things probably involve Waverly. She makes a face, and turns to pull the door open. “By all means, get to flashing. I’ll watch over Sleeping Boozy, here.”

“Sweet talker,” Nicole teases with a small grin. “Though if Emmet does this again, I’d recommend pressing charges. Hopefully that won’t be necessary, but thanks for saving me the paperwork tonight.”

“Long night?” Wynonna asks before she can stop herself.

“You don’t know the half of it.” Nicole groans and shakes her head, one hand rising to tug her hat off for a moment as the other rubs over her hair. “But I should go get that help. My shift’s finally almost over.”

The door swings open wide and fast—and slams the snoozing Emmet hard in the leg.

“The hell?!” Emmet croaks as he jerks awake.

The sleight man that’s taken half a step from the bar swings his head over to Emmet, takes one look at the tiny mountain of a man, and heads right back inside.

“Welp,” Wynonna says with a smile as the door swings closed again, “guess you won’t be needing that help after all.”

Nicole smiles back at Wynonna and puts her hat back on. “Guess not.”

*

Wynonna’s hands grip the shopping cart tighter as she makes her way past the plethora of alcohol on display. She’s here to shop for Willa, to help save her sister some time and energy in what are usually long days.

With Willa’s encouragement she’s been doing her best to cut back on drinking. It’s not that Willa had pressured or judged her into doing it. No, it hadn’t taken that at all.

The moment Wynonna had gotten back and reunited with her sister, had looked into Willa’s eyes, Wynonna had decided that for herself. Willa had always had it worse, had always taken on a lot of Daddy’s ire for Wynonna when possible. The least Wynonna can do is not drink like the man that had made both of their lives miserable.

As she passes another display for beer, she forces herself to stare down at the shopping list Willa had thoughtfully provided. She can do this.

“Thought that was you.”

Wynonna blinks and pulls her focus away from the list. “Haught. You still stalking me?”

Nicole’s lips twitch, and then she’s rolling them together and hefting her basket protectively in front of herself. There’s several items inside. “Looks like I was here first. You stalking _me_ , Earp?”

“You should be so lucky, flatfoot. We’re down to a can of beans and a half a stick of suspicious smelling butter at the homestead. I offered to do the shopping.”

Before she can finish speaking, Nicole’s already nodding.

“Willa works hard. Long hours. But the work she does is important.”

Wynonna tries not to think of the night Willa had revealed her profession—and her own reaction to that work. The tears had caught them both by surprise, and Wynonna’s still embarrassed about it. Thankfully, Willa had promised not to tell anyone. Willa always keeps her promises.

“That it is, Haught, that it is.” Her fingers smooth over the wrinkled shopping list.

“You, uh, need any help finding anything?” Nicole asks once the silence has started to get awkward.

To her great chagrin, Wynonna nearly says yes. She internally shakes herself. It’s just a damn grocery store. “Nah, believe it or not, I _can_ read.” Wynonna nudges her chin up to one of the aisle signs.

Nicole shrugs and looks away. “I know you’re a lot smarter than people give you credit for, Wynonna. I just know this store is barely two years old, so I figured you’re not familiar with it.” She looks back, her expression unreadable. “Happy shopping.”

Wynonna’s jaw works as she turns and heads back in the other direction. She and Nicole haven’t been getting along, exactly, but she thinks maybe Nicole had been offering a… well, maybe something like an olive branch.

“Hey, Nicole?” she calls out before she can second-guess herself.

Nicole pauses, her head half-turning to Wynonna. “Yeah?”

“You coming to Willa’s dinner thing on Friday?” Her thumbs tap out over the plastic handle of the cart. It doesn’t matter to her either way. It’s fine if Nicole doesn’t come.

“Uh, yeah, if that’s alright with you.” Nicole doesn’t smile, but she does look hopeful.

Wynonna scrunches up her eyebrows and shrugs. “You kidding? You’re the only other person both my sisters like besides me.” At least, that’s Wynonna thinks. Both of her sisters like her, don’t they?

“There does seem to be a lot they don’t agree on.” Nicole’s eyes seem to twinkle with amusement and, if Wynonna stares long enough, she bets that she’d be gifted with a smile wide enough to reveal dimples.

She clears her throat and focuses back on her shopping list. “Yeah, well, I’ve still got a lot of shopping to do, so.”

“Of course, yeah. See you Friday.”

Wynonna doesn’t look up until she’s sure she’s alone again. She lets out a breath and idly scratches her cheek. If this continues on, will she become friends with… a cop?

She makes a face and shudders. “Ew,” she mutters as she looks around for the bread aisle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always wished that Willa was given a better shake than what she got. Victims of abuse don't always turn out to be monsters - in fact I would say I've met many exceptionally kind people that come from very abusive and dysfunctional situations. After everything Willa went through, she was still turned into a cheap villain. It made me very sad.
> 
> I also feel like s1 Waverly was written in a very curious way... she never showed up to Curtis's funeral (one half of the couple that pretty much raised her from when she was 6???)! Not only that, but she fired a shotgun in the middle of the day above Shorty's and no one called the police? While the latter makes for great comedy, I feel like it came at the sacrifice of glossing over issues she definitely could have had given her upbringing. The funeral thing has always *really* bugged me, though.
> 
> I expect the second chapter to be fairly long as well (it's already a few thousand words), and it's there that we'll get into the real meat of the Earp issues. And the Wynaught. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a bit longer to write because I got sick Wednesday and wasn't able to finish when I wanted to. However, and I know you're all probably very upset about this, I've decided to split this into three chapters because I really hate having 10k+ chapters. It's a mess to sort through and keep track of.
> 
> Chapter 3 won't be as long as these first two, but there's still enough ground to cover to warrant it needing to be separate. :)
> 
> That way you guys get this next chapter a bit sooner, and I get a little more breathing room (not that you guys pressure me but I pressure myself).
> 
> The warning tags are definitely necessary this chapter, please keep that in mind.

* * *

The homestead is lively with all three sisters around, Nicole acknowledges as her thumb traces the label on her beer bottle. She quirks her lips into a smile and shifts on the couch.

Maybe if she didn’t know two of the three Earps so well, she might feel like an outsider. She bites her lip as she observes them moving around the kitchen.

“Wynonna,” Waverly says in a voice that’s full of barely-suppressed laughter, “that is _not_ how you use a whisk.”

“Waverly, the only limitation to whisk usage is your imagination,” Wynonna declares proudly. There’s flour on her forehead and nose, but neither of her sisters seem in a hurry to tell her so.

Willa laughs and turns from her position in front of the oven. “That sounds like a story I’m not sure I want to hear.”

Waverly makes a disgusted face. “Yes, please, not _that_ story.”

Nicole shakes her head in wonder. This is the most civil she’s seen Waverly and Willa around each other in ages.

As she continues watching, Wynonna says something in a low voice that makes both other Earps laugh. Nicole shakes her head again. Enough time has passed that she’s seriously begun to consider that, maybe, Gus has been wrong about Wynonna.

She raises her beer and takes a long drink. She’s made a point to patrol by where she knows Wynonna might be a few times, but other than a few calls out at The Jack Shack involving someone needing a trip to the drunk tank to cool their heels, Wynonna has seemed to stay out of trouble.

Movement in the kitchen pulls her gaze; Waverly’s laughing and squeezing a protesting Wynonna into a hug. Willa’s grinning at them affectionately over her shoulder as she mixes something on the stove.

Wynonna hasn’t had more than a single beer since Nicole has arrived. She’s been wrong about Wynonna, too.

“Hey, babe, you need another beer?”

Nicole blinks a few times and pastes a smile on her face. Waverly’s in front of her, looking mildly inquisitive. She raises her half-full beer. “Nah, I’m fine. You sure I can’t help in the kitchen? I feel weird sitting over here.”

Between her and Waverly, she tends to do most of the cooking. This _is_ the first time she’s had dinner with all three Earps at once, however.

“We’ve got it.” Waverly reaches out and squeezes her shoulder.

Nicole angles her head to the side. She can’t put her finger on it, but something’s been different with Waverly the last couple of weeks. In the beginning, after Waverly’s initial fear of being out in a small town, it had seemed like Waverly couldn’t be affectionate _enough_ in public.

She reaches up to lightly grasp Waverly’s hand before it can fully retreat. “You sure?” she asks, looking directly into Waverly’s eyes.

Waverly’s smile seems a little too big as she nods. “Yes, we’re fine.”

When she tugs once, Nicole reluctantly lets her go. “Alright.”

It doesn’t worry Nicole too much. The honeymoon phase has to wear off sometime. It’s been a while since they went out on a proper date, the two of them generally hanging out at Nicole’s apartment or Shorty’s. She’ll have to rectify that soon.

Wynonna lays a loud, wet kiss on Willa’s cheek. Nicole snorts when Willa takes a handful of flour and dumps it over Wynonna’s head.

Dinner might take a while to get finished. Nicole doesn’t mind in the least.

*

A few hours later they’re settled on the back porch with full stomachs. Willa and Wynonna are ensconced in padded wooden deck chairs, with Nicole and Waverly tucked away on the matching bench seat.

Nicole tilts her head backward to stare up at the stars. They’d idly chatted for the better part of an hour before the comfortable silence had descended.

“I never thought I’d come back here. Swore I never would, in fact.”

She senses Willa and Waverly focusing on Wynonna after the words are spoken, but doesn’t move. Wynonna doesn’t open up to her. She’s glad she’s on the far side of Waverly.

“And yet here you are.” Willa’s voice is soft but full of honest admiration.

Waverly looks down, a small frown marring her features as she fidgets with the hem of her skirt. Before Nicole can ask what’s wrong, Waverly speaks.

“It only took Willa coming back for you to change your mind.” There’s more resignation than bite to the declaration, but Nicole still sucks in a breath at her honesty.

Wynonna’s head jerks in Waverly’s direction. “Hey, I came to visit you plenty!” She lowers her eyes and looks away. “I didn’t want to cramp your style. You’re Purgatory’s sweetheart, you know that. I’m… definitely not that.”

“I still needed you, Wynonna.” The bitterness is apparent now, and Nicole feels a loss for the gentle ease they’ve enjoyed most of the day.

She thinks this is when Wynonna will snap, lash out at Waverly.

Instead, Wynonna looks solemn. “I love you, Baby Girl, but the only reason you turned out so great is because you _didn’t_ need me.”

The color in Waverly’s cheeks rises. Before anyone can react, Waverly’s on her feet and storming inside.

Wynonna’s hands squeeze the arms of chair. Her eyes are bright with the threat of tears, and she seems unsure if she should follow.

Nicole gently clears her throat. “Let me.”

It’s Willa that meets her eyes first, a subtle nod acknowledging her request as Willa places a steadying hand on Wynonna’s back.

Her shoulders are stiff as she stands and follows in Waverly’s wake. Nicole has begun to understand she has a problem—she’s begun to care a little too much about _all_ of the Earp girls. She shakes her head as she searches the homestead, wondering if it’s just the distance from her own family that has made her so attached.

She finds Waverly upstairs, in a room that looks eerily childish and outdated.

“She kept our room the same,” Waverly mutters, her arms snugly wrapped around herself. It’s clear she’s been crying.

Nicole takes a breath and settles a hand low on Waverly’s back. She wants to say something but she knows how Waverly is when things get like this. She waits.

“Why didn’t they love me enough to stay?” Waverly whispers after many long seconds.

Nicole’s heart breaks a little for her, and she gently tugs until Waverly’s settled into her arms. Her mouth twists a little. She’s read all the Earp files. She knows things aren’t as simple as Waverly thinks they are.

She also knows that Waverly had been a little girl when she’d lost both her sisters. And her dad.

 _It’s complicated_ , Nicole almost says. She doesn’t. Waverly isn’t ready enough to hear it, or to accept it as truth. They’d all been too young to handle what had been thrust their way.

Waverly is stiff in Nicole’s arms, but after several heartbeats, she melts into the hug.

“They do love you, you know,” Nicole whispers before pressing a kiss to Waverly’s forehead.

Waverly’s hands grip her shoulders but the room remains quiet.

Nicole silently hopes the other Earps are faring better.

***

The night that had seemed so pleasant before is too cool. Wynonna curls her arms tightly around herself, wishing her leather jacket could keep the coldness from seeping in.

“I wish she could understand.” Willa’s voice is subdued but steady.

Wynonna closes her eyes and leans further into the warmth of Willa’s hand. “She hasn’t forgiven you either, right?”

“No.”

The cover of night hides the tears that trickle down Wynonna’s face as she nods. “Right. If she can’t forgive you, how could she ever possibly forgive me?”

Willa releases a heavy sigh. The warm hand on Wynonna’s back disappears but, before she can mourn its loss, both Willa’s hands are cupping her face.

“Wynonna, I don’t think you realize it yet.” Willa’s thumbs begin tenderly brushing away her tears. “Waverly doesn’t understand because she’s blocked _everything_ about then out. She doesn’t remember Daddy or what he was like. She’s been _told_ , but it’s like she’s hearing about someone else, like those things happened to other people. I’ve asked her several times to talk to someone but she’s just so, so stubborn…”

Wynonna sniffles and blinks sluggishly. “What?”

“It’s not your fault, Wynonna. It’s not my fault. We were kids trying to deal with something we could never be prepared for. We’ll get through to Waverly.” Willa’s chin is firm and her gaze is steady.

It makes the thickness in Wynonna’s throat all the much more difficult. “H-how are you so—you had it the worst out of all of us!”

Willa’s smile is wry as she drops her hands from Wynonna’s face. She shrugs and touches Wynonna’s arm. “I was also older. And I got help from good people.” Her eyes drop, crinkles forming on her forehead as she purses her lips. “About that time you found me, showed up at my apartment—”

“ _No_ ,” Wynonna cuts her off sharply. Willa jerks her head back up, her lips quivering as she tries not to cry.

“No,” Wynonna insists lowly, “you did what you needed to do. It was hard for me, but,” she stops and squeezes Willa’s shoulder, “if this is the end result? It’s worth it. You needed to put yourself back together, Willa. There’s nothing wrong with that. You were always amazing, but now everyone else can see that, too.”

Whatever’s been keeping Willa’s tears at bay suddenly evaporates, and then Willa’s crying and smiling and pulling Wynonna into a secure hug.

Wynonna smiles back and returns the hug with equal fervor, allowing the bond with her eldest sister to wash over her. She isn’t sure how long the affection continues, but eventually, Willa pulls back.

“We need to talk to Waverly.” Willa’s face is determined, her eyes unwavering.

It’s nearly too much for Wynonna. She’s already dug deeper tonight than she has any other time than she has since they were kids. A thought strikes her. “Now? What about Nicole?” Her stomach clenches at the thought of the outsider being privy to more of their business.

Willa sighs and shakes her head. “Wynonna, she already knows pretty much everything. She’s been slowly trying to talk Waverly into getting help.”

“Everything?” Wynonna’s breathing accelerates and her palms grow sweaty.

Reading the panic for what it is, Willa immediately reaches out to hold her arm. “Nearly everything,” Willa gently corrects.

Wynonna’s breathing eases. Their secret is still safe. Her throat works as she tries not to remember how cold the gun had felt in her hands, how much they’d shaken as she’d screamed at Daddy to _stop, you’re killing her_.

“Come on,” Willa says as she carefully stands from her chair.

And though Wynonna knows that Willa is right, they need to talk to Waverly, it’s difficult for her to reach out and accept Willa’s hand.

“Okay,” she replies as, trembling, she manages to do just that.

*

Watching Willa talk to Waverly is difficult—but talking _herself_ is impossible.

As it is, it’s hard enough to ignore Nicole Haught’s presence in what should be a private family moment, but it’s her long arms that are keeping Waverly in place long enough for Willa to speak her piece.

Wynonna tunes out as much as possible, instead watching the minute shifts in Waverly’s expression. It takes a while for there to be anything but anger, but Wynonna sees the subtle softening and simultaneous growing sense of horror.

Waverly seemingly jumps in place past a certain point, eyes wide with shock. Her chest heaves and though her attention has been mostly on the wall; she’s staring at Willa.

“Willa. Willa.” Her arm twitches as she blindly extends it to her eldest sister. “I… I remember something. Daddy had a friend, Bobo.”

Beside Wynonna, Willa stiffens.

“Waverly—”

But Willa doesn’t get to say more, because Waverly is rushing forward to swing her arms around Willa and muttering what sounds like “Oh god” in a feverish repetition.

“I’m so sorry,” Waverly cries out, “Bobo was always so nice to me. I, I didn’t… I didn’t understand what that was, what I saw when,” but Waverly can’t finish the thought.

It feels like Wynonna’s life is suddenly in slow motion. Bobo Del Rey, the towering man with a quick smile that had always made Wynonna feel a little uneasy. She hasn’t thought of him in years. When visiting, he’d always brought some trinket for Waverly, and had often laid thick compliments on Willa during his visits. At the time, Wynonna had thought he was something akin to _nice_ , but…

But. Now Wynonna also remembers how sometimes he’d disappear when Willa was sent off to do some chore. There’s a forceful, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Willa?” she asks in a broken whisper.

Though Waverly is still wrapped closely around Willa and they’re both crying, Willa’s eyes find her over Waverly’s shoulder.

It’s not a verbal confirmation, but Wynonna doesn’t need one.

The world recedes around her, blackness seeping in along the edges of her vision until there’s only pinpricks of light stinging her eyes from where Willa and Waverly are tangled up in a hug.

Her knees give out but she doesn’t care.

Willa had never told her.

Strong arms wind their way around her waist before her knees can bite into the unforgiving wooden floor. Her hands grip at them reflexively, her nails digging into skin without realizing.

She isn’t aware she’s leaning into Nicole until the muted voice near her ear utters a quiet “I’ve got you.”

And it’s too much. She pushes away from Nicole with a strangled sob, but Willa is already there waiting.

Willa’s arms don’t give from around her, and then Waverly’s there, too.

Wynonna clutches both of her sisters tightly and weeps.

***

A month and a half after Curtis’s passing, Purgatory is fully back to business as usual.

Nicole taps out a beat against her steering wheel as she patrols through town. She’s just come off a call for backup in regards to a domestic dispute, and she still feels jittery. Domestic calls are always the worst.

Her first week on the job in Purgatory, Haught had seen one of her fellow officers get stabbed. Simpson had barely gotten the victim away from a man that had seemed determined to beat her within an inch of her life—when the victim had turned on him, angry at Simpson for handcuffing her boyfriend.

Thankfully, this call hadn’t been as bad, but there _had_ been kids involved. Nicole had volunteered to look after them until the local representative from child welfare could arrive.

When Willa had shown up with a quiet air of kindness and a steady smile, Nicole had nearly lost it. She doesn’t understand how Willa can be who she is after surviving everything she has. It’s only been a week since the dinner at the Earp homestead.

Unconsciously, Nicole clutches her steering wheel. Bobo Del Rey had not been in Willa’s file. It hadn’t taken Nicole long to discover the full name, nor to dig up his long history with the law.

Though part of her desperately wants to push Willa into pressing charges (again Nicole is grateful that Canada doesn’t believe serious crimes should have a statute of limitations), Nicole isn’t sure it’s her place. Willa’s already been through so much…

Bobo is already three years in on an eight year sentence for a serious drug charge. It’s not justice for Willa, or who knows who else the asshole had sexually abused, but it’s something.

She tries her best not to think of Willa at fourteen, how small and fragile she’d seemed in the photos taken for evidence on the night of Ward’s death.

Who knows what could have eventually happened to Wynonna and Waverly.

Her phone chimes a cheerful alert, a small reminder that it’s her lunch break. She turns her thoughts away from such troubling thoughts. Maybe the acid in her stomach will stop churning long enough for her to have a meal with her girlfriend.

She turns her patrol car toward Shorty’s, intent on taking Waverly out wherever she wants. Nicole’s resolution to treat Waverly out on more dates has fallen on the backburner since the night of Earp revelations—Waverly hasn’t felt up to it. Nicole has respected that.

As she pulls into Shorty’s she notes the few familiar cars parked in the lot. Despite the bar not opening for another few hours, it always seems like there’s hopefuls hanging around for an early fix. It’s not against the law past 11 AM, and so Nicole only shakes her head.

She waves to Shorty as she enters the place, taking her hat off in the process. She’s glad that Shorty’s softened up on her again. Wynonna’s arrival had made the friendly man close up a bit, and when Nicole had finally asked, Shorty had only scowled and said “Law never did treat Nona too kindly.”

“Waverly down here?” she asks as she draws closer to the wraparound bar.

Shorty nods his head once as he dries a few glasses. “Inventory,” is his explanation.

Nicole grins. Shorty hates inventory, so Waverly usually volunteers to take on the obligation. “You mind if I…?” She gestures to the door leading down into the basement with her hat.

“Be my guest,” Shorty says with a twinkle in his eye, “but no necking down there, you hear? I need to be able to enter my own basement without fear of being scarred for life.”

“Yessir,” Nicole retorts with a smartass salute.

Shorty snorts and goes back to his cleaning.

Waverly greets her with a smile, but only grudgingly agrees to head out for lunch.

Nicole tries not to take it personally. Waverly’s been trying to process a lot lately.

*

They’re nearly halfway through their meal at Pearl’s diner when Waverly suddenly blurts out “I think we need a break.”

Nicole’s fork clatters down on her plate as she swallows her bite of waffle. “What?”

Waverly won’t look at her, instead staring down at the checkered nylon tablecloth. “I’ve got too much going on right now. I can’t juggle a relationship, too.”

“I can give you space,” Nicole says as she reaches for her glass of water. “I know with Willa and Wynonna—”

“How can you give me space when you’re always hanging out with one of my sisters?” Waverly looks like she wants to say more, but instead purses her lips into a thin line. Her eyes are glittering a warning.

“Hanging out is kind of a strong term,” Nicole says carefully, “I just happen to run into them a fair bit with work.” And she’s not lying - she hasn’t seen either Willa or Wynonna outside of her duties as a police officer since last Friday night.

Waverly shakes her head. “Yeah, well, that’s still too much. Purgatory’s already small enough. I can’t, I need,” but her words taper off into frustrating silence.

Nicole doesn’t like it, the resignation on her face. “Relationships aren’t easy, Waverly.”

“I know that,” Waverly snaps. Her expression shifts after a moment, her eyes closing as she shakes her head. “I’m doing this wrong. This isn’t…” She inhales steadily, holds the breath, then releases it. When her eyes meet Nicole’s again, all the anger has been replaced with sadness. “I kissed Rosita last night, Nicole.”

“What?” Nicole is startled to realize the faraway-sounding voice is her own. This lunch is nothing like she expected. “Why?”

She’d known Waverly had been hanging around the recent returnee to Purgatory - Rosita Bustillos had accomplished much in her time away, accumulating _two_ PhDs abroad and (if rumors are to be believed) made independently wealthy after selling a chemical compound patent to a pharmaceutical company. Waverly, who had never really left Purgatory, had been fascinated.

Waverly ducks her face down into her hands. “I don’t know. You were working and there was a hot tub and champagne. I was just trying to unwind but then I, we, we were caught up in the moment. I’ve got too much going on right now, Nicole. Everything’s so confusing. I need _time_.”

Still in shock, Nicole doesn’t know what to say. Waverly cheating on her, even only kiss, had never occurred to her. Certainly not with another woman. As Waverly’s first foray into loving women, Nicole had thought that Waverly would bounce back to men, _if_ anything.

Rosita is pretty and intelligent and—Nicole had dropped out of college. She grits her teeth and tries to ignore the stinging in her eyes. “Okay, yeah. Maybe I need time, too.”

She hasn’t felt this shitty since she was nineteen and her first girlfriend had dumped her to have a fling with a TA. Nicole had lost interest in pursuing a criminal degree soon after. She hadn’t needed one to become a cop.

Finishing her lunch isn’t an option. She tugs out her wallet and drops some money down on the table, managing a barely civil “I’ll see you around” to Waverly before storming out the door—only to walk right back in when she remembers that she’d driven Waverly to Pearl’s.

Contrite, Waverly remains silent for the entire trip back to Shorty’s.

***

Wynonna attentively scrubs her hands under the tepid water, hoping the sticky spot she’d inadvertently stuck her hand in had been something fairly innocuous like spilled pop or booze.

“Just my luck,” she mutters as she turns the water off and tugs out a few paper towels from the dispenser. It hadn’t even been her night to work, but when Wynonna had gotten the call she’d jumped at the chance to earn some extra cash.

Thanks to a subtle reminder from Nicole a couple of weeks ago, Wynonna’s aware Waverly’s birthday is coming up. A month later Willa’s will be as well. Wynonna’s already missed too many birthdays not to make some kind of effort now.

The Jack Shack is as busy as usual for a Thursday—Ladies’ Night means half off drinks for said ladies—and Wynonna’s just _itching_ for some idiot to make a fool of himself.

Jimmy, the head bartender, catches her eye with a wave. Wynonna nods at him and winds her way through the crowd. “What’s up, Jim?”

“Got some law here tonight, Earp. No mercy on rule breakers tonight, don’t want to lose business over a cop making a fuss.”

Wynonna raises her eyebrows. “No problem.” She rubs her hands gleefully at the thought at first. She pauses and frowns. “What law we got?”

Jimmy nods toward the far end of the bar, back past the standing tables to the few smaller booths in the corner.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Wynonna says though she can’t see who their ill-accepted company is. Her curiosity is too much to resist so she elbows her way around the small dance floor.

“Well, shit.” Wynonna blinks and crosses her arms. Nicole Haught, in old jeans and a wrinkled turquoise button-up, is slouched over and staring into a half-empty mug of beer. Another already empty mug is also on the table.

Wynonna internally debates with herself. She’d only been in the bathroom a few minutes and yet, somehow, in that time Nicole had wandered her way in and shotgunned a beer and a half.

Nicole very well knows her schedule by now, and probably isn’t aware that Wynonna is even here tonight on what’s supposed to be her day off. It’s really none of Wynonna’s business.

Except, well. Nicole is Waverly’s girlfriend. And a good friend to Willa.

“Goddammit,” Wynonna mutters under her breath as she stalks over to Nicole’s table. A double whiskey would be really great about now, she thinks.

“Funny how you still find a way to stalk me on days I’m not even supposed to come in,” Wynonna jokes as leans against the bench seat across from Nicole.

Nicole’s head jerks up, her eyes widening and then narrowing upon seeing Wynonna. “Will you Earps ever leave me alone?”

 _Gladly_ , Wynonna almost says. She bites the inside of her cheek and silently counts in her head. “Don’t tempt me,” Wynonna declares with a bright smile, “because as it is I’m trying my very best not to.”

Nicole scowls and takes a long pull from her beer. “Don’t try so hard.”

Wynonna’s smile becomes tight and she flutters her eyelashes. “I _could_ tell the bartenders to cut you off on account of you being a mean drunk. Word has it there’s a cop here tonight and we’re trying to avoid trouble.”

“Ugh.” Nicole’s rubbing at her face with one hand now. She won’t look at Wynonna. “I hate small towns.”

“You and me both.” Wynonna peers around the bar. She’s not the only bouncer on duty tonight, but she’d rather keep her job. If she can’t drink, she might as well be knocking the heads of those who can’t handle their liquor.

“This town does seem to hate you.”

“I come by it honestly.” A shoving match is starting up on the far side of the bar but before Wynonna can take a step in their direction, Devon (the other, hairy-er bouncer) is already there.

Wynonna resigns herself to drunken cop duty.

“Why did you come back, Nona?”

The familiar moniker startles Wynonna into looking back at Nicole. She frowns and wonders at the cop’s familiarity. “I heard Nedley missed me,” she quips.

A burst of movement has her turning back to the shoving match. Devon looks like he’s gonna need help very soon. “Look, Haught. It’s none of my business why you’re drinking. If you don’t want to talk that suits me just fine. But if you’re gonna be here drinking like you’ve already been drinking, I’m gonna have to keep an eye on you for the sake of my sisters. So, deal with it.”

She doesn’t wait for Nicole’s response. It doesn’t matter anyway and she’s got a job to do.

*

A little after three in the morning Wynonna is lamenting the fact that Purgatory doesn’t have a cab service.

“What was your plan exactly?” Wynonna grunts as Nicole trips and nearly sends them both sprawling out on the ground.

“To get drunk, duh.” It’s clear by the slow way Nicole is speaking that she’s trying very hard not to slur.

It doesn’t help much. Wynonna rolls her eyes and adjusts Nicole’s arm around her shoulders. “I mean _after_ that, dumbass. You can’t drive home like this.”

“I c’n sleep in my truck.”

Wynonna grits her teeth. She _could_ let Nicole do that. Normally, she would.

But it’s something she knows Willa would never do. She casts a forlorn look at her motorcycle, her last gift from Curtis.

“Give me your keys,” she demands flatly.

When Nicole only seems befuddled by the demand, Wynonna curses under her breath and begins searching Nicole’s pockets. She just wants to go home and sleep. As it is she might sleep through her alarm, which means she’d miss breakfast with Willa, and Wynonna really doesn’t want that.

Her patting makes Nicole squawk and splutter in surprise, but in less than thirty seconds Wynonna is triumphantly jingling the keys in her free hand.

Nicole’s truck is vaguely familiar enough to pick out from the few cars left in the lot, and within a handful of minutes Wynonna is roughly shoving Nicole up and into the cab. 

“It really sucks to be on this end of this,” she laments with a grunt as Nicole lands face down on the bench seat. She shoves Nicole’s legs over to make sure they won’t be hit by the door and then rounds the truck to haul herself up into the driver’s seat.

It takes another few minutes to get Nicole upright and in secured in her seat belt.

“The world’s spinning,” Nicole murmurs as her head slumps back against the seat.

Wynonna scoffs and feels around for the overhead light. It takes two attempts to find the key that fits in the ignition, but then the truck is rumbling to life.

She turns the overhead light off and contemplates her options. She has no clue where Nicole lives, and honestly she feels she’s already going far enough out of her way.

“Looks like you’re crashing on the couch tonight,” Wynonna says as she backs out and points the truck in the direction of the homestead.

Nicole only groans. At first. “Waverly won’t be there, will she?”

Wynonna frowns and glances to the side. Nicole is curled in on herself facing the passenger door. “No,” Wynonna says slowly, “she lives above Shorty’s, remember? It’s only me and Willa at the homestead.”

“Good.” There’s a long pause that has Wynonna thinking maybe Nicole’s passed out, but then Nicole adds, “she cheated on me, you know.”

A loud snort escapes Wynonna when she deciphers the heavily slurred words. “Waverly? The princess of Purgatory? Sure, Nicole.”

“It’s true,” come the slightly clearer words. Nicole’s sitting up almost properly now, sounding a little angry. “She kissed another woman.”

Wynonna takes one look at Nicole and bursts into laughter. “ _One_ kiss? That’s it? You’re all doom and gloom over one kiss?”

“It hurt to hear,” Nicole says.

Her voice is so hushed and honest that Wynonna’s amusement evaporates. She hasn’t really done the committed thing much over the years and—she takes another glance at Nicole—Nicole looks genuinely hurt.

She clears her throat and shifts her weight, suddenly wishing the drive out to the homestead would pass a little quicker. “Uh, did you two… talk about it?”

“Not really. Waverly just said she wanted a break. From us.”

Wynonna squints. Is that the turnoff for the homestead? No, it’s too soon. She licks her lips, wondering if she can stay qu—oh god is Nicole going to _cry_?

“Well, a break isn’t breaking up.” Her sweaty palms flex on the steering wheel. They’re almost there. Almost.

“Yeah.” Nicole is quiet again; her eyes are shining too brightly but she still hasn’t begun to cry.

The turnoff for the homestead is suddenly in view, and Wynonna cheers silently as the truck rumbles onto the dirt path.

By the time she’s got Nicole tucked in on the couch, Wynonna is exhausted. She only manages rid herself of her boots and leather jacket before flopping face down onto her bed.

***

It’s the smell that pulls Nicole from her heavy sleep, accompanied by faint voices and clinking cutlery. She’s not at her apartment, she knows that much.

For the time being Nicole decides to keep her eyes closed, her head pounding and causing her undue agony. Her mouth tastes like something crawled into it and died. She winces and smacks her lips in a vain attempt to rid herself of the flavor.

“Look at that, I think Officer Haught is waking up!”

Nicole clutches her head and rolls away from the sound. Behind the throbbing she finds the energy to think about how much she really hates Wynonna Earp ( _asshole_ ).

“Nona,” comes Willa’s much softer ( _angelic_ ) voice. “Be good.”

It takes a phenomenal effort to pry her eyes open but Nicole manages. She groans. Why is it so bright?

A warm hand settles over her shoulder. “I’ve got some water and aspirin for you.”

Nicole winces as she leans up on her elbows, her eyes letting in as little light as possible. “Thanks, Wills,” she mumbles as she accepts the glass and pills.

The kind smile Willa offers only serves to make Nicole feel guilty.

“If you’re feeling up to it, there’s some breakfast. I made waffles, but there’s toast and eggs as well.” Willa’s expression is placid, and with a small squeeze to Nicole’s shoulder, she’s rising up from the edge of the couch and returning to the kitchen.

Though Nicole’s stomach is a little queasy, she pops the pills in her mouth and manages to drink most of the water. Food sounds like a bad idea, but Nicole knows she needs to eat _something_. Toast will do.

A few minutes later she’s sitting at the small round kitchen table, an Earp on either side of her. The toast goes down surprisingly easy, even with Wynonna glaring at her across the way.

They make light conversation until Willa’s standing up with an apologetic smile. “Work,” is her explanation. She makes to clean up after herself, but then Wynonna’s standing too and pushing her gently away.

“Scoot,” Wynonna says as she playfully bumps her shoulder against Willa’s, “I’ve got this.”

Willa’s eyes twinkle as she leans in to brush a kiss to her sister’s cheek.

Nicole thinks she hears Willa whisper a “be nice” to Wynonna but she can’t be sure.

“I hope you feel better soon.” Willa nods toward Nicole and glances back at Wynonna for a last smile before heading out the front door.

“You’re so lucky she’s nicer than I am,” Wynonna declares as she rinses Willa’s dishes.

Nicole makes a face, sticking her tongue out at Wynonna’s back. Her headache is a little better. She should probably drink more water. “I guess it was nice enough of you to bring me home,” Nicole admits in a grudging tone.

“Is that a ‘thank you’, Haught?” Wynonna sounds amused but she doesn’t turn from the sink.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Nicole replies in a lighter voice. Because it’s true; she is grateful that Wynonna went out of the way to bring her to the homestead. Waking up hungover at the Earp house had been a different experience than Nicole would have had waking up alone in her truck in the parking lot of a bar. “Willa’s something else, you know?”

The sounds of dishes being scrubbed stops for a moment. When Nicole looks up, Wynonna’s head is turned half over her shoulder. Her smile is warm and deep.

“Yeah, I know,” Wynonna agrees quietly. She straightens. “Anyway, I had to leave my Black Beauty at The Jack Shack so you’re driving me back to get it.”

Nicole scowls down at her glass of water. “Can I have coffee first, at least?”

“Self serve, flatfoot.”

*

Neither Wynonna or Willa bring up the night she’d spent at the homestead (or how hungover she’d been the morning after) over the course of the next week when she interacts with them on the job.

Or the few other times she runs into them off the job, too.

“Okay,” Nicole says with a deliberate blink when she turns and discovers Wynonna is suddenly several feet away examining a shelf of peanut butter, “what the hell. I know Purgatory is a small town, but I could _swear_ you used to avoid me outside of work.”

“We need peanut butter, Haught.” Wynonna’s face is a study of concentration as she hefts two different jars of said peanut butter. “Do you know if Willa still prefers crunchy?”

Flabbergasted, Nicole can only open and close her mouth and stare.

Wynonna rolls her eyes and deposits the jar labeled ‘crunchy’ into the cart. “Okay, fine. Willa’s over in the dairy section and—” Wynonna peers around to make sure they’re alone. She lowers her voice. “She just wants to make sure you’re doing okay but she didn’t want to make it seem like she was checking on you so—”

“So you got check-up duty,” Nicole finishes.

“Pretty much.” Wynonna shrugs and leans against her shopping cart. She studies Nicole’s face for a long moment. “How you doin, flatfoot?”

“I’m fine.” Nicole’s not sure if she means it. She’s been keeping herself busy to avoid dwelling too much on Waverly or Rosita or… “I think.”

Wynonna pulls a face, her expression mildly disgusted as she makes a great visual effort to say the next part. “ _Great_. I’m supposed to invite you to dinner.”

“Is Waverly…?” Nicole flounders, not able to finish asking the question.

“Nope. She has plans.” Wynonna’s expression is unreadable.

Nicole tries to ignore the pang in her chest at the thought of what plans Waverly might have. She licks her lips, wondering if accepting an evening with her maybe-ex’s sisters would count as pathetic. “Dinner sounds good.”

It’s better than being alone.

At the end of the aisle Willa comes into view, some milk and a block of cheese in her hands. She gives Nicole a pleasant smile. “Hey, Nicole. Fancy running into you here.”

“She already said yes to dinner. And she said she’s fine,” Wynonna cuts in dryly.

Willa’s eyes widen and then narrow. She deposits the milk and cheese into the cart before flicking Wynonna on the arm. “You were supposed to be subtle!”

Wynonna snorts, grinning and lightly rubbing at her arm. She arches her eyebrows at Willa. “I mean, have you met me?”

“Honestly, I can’t take you anywhere.” Willa directs her attention to Nicole. “Dinner will be ready at seven, but you should come by earlier so we can catch up a bit.”

“That means be there by six,” Wynonna chimes in with her usual unrepentant grin.

Nicole chortles when Willa flicks Wynonna’s arm again—but it’s clear Willa’s not upset. In fact, they’re all smiling.

Maybe part of Nicole has worried that she’d lose out on this if she loses Waverly.

She hasn’t _lost_ Waverly yet, she reminds herself.

But… the Earps are her closest friends in Purgatory. Her own family is on the other side of the region and hardly a quick drive away.

It’s a good thing Waverly doesn’t live at the homestead, she silently admits to herself as she watches Willa and Wynonna have a bump war with their shoulders. Being around them makes her feel just a little less lonely, and she needs that right now as she tries to figure out what’s going on with Waverly.

“I’ll be there at six.”

***

“How long do you figure Waverly’s gonna keep stringing Nicole along on this _break_?” Wynonna asks absently as she dries a plate.

Willa nudges her hip sideways lightly into Wynonna’s. “Who knows? I love Waverly, but goodness knows where her head is sometimes.”

Wynonna tries not to frown. Nicole’s become a semi-regular guest at the homestead the last two weeks. At first Wynonna had hated it, but now she… doesn’t. Nicole fits right in, oddly enough, fixing up small things around the property to keep herself busy. “You know,” Wynonna begins, “after she remembered about… Skunkhead,” (Wynonna refuses to call him by name to Willa), “I asked her about Daddy again. Can you believe she still doesn’t remember what he was really like?”

“I can.”

The tone is so odd—hollow—coming from Willa, that Wynonna immediately stops what she’s doing to face her sister.

At first, Willa doesn’t move either. After a brief hesitation she looks Wynonna in the eye. “You know once I tried talking to her about him. I tried reminding her how nasty Daddy could be. She… all she could remember was that he _paid attention to us_ , _remembered our birthdays_. Everything else was just gone.”

“Damn.” The expletive is barely a whisper. Wynonna shakes her head. “And I know this is rich coming from me, but maybe she _really_ should talk to someone.”

Willa’s lips upturn even though it’s apparent she’s trying to suppress her mirth. “You, who absolutely refused rehab, AA, or a recovery specialist thinks Waverly should talk to someone? That _is_ something, Wynonna.”

A quick retort is on the tip of Wynonna’s tongue, but then Nicole is stepping into the kitchen with a pleased smile on her face.

“Fixed the hinges upstairs. Got anything else for me?” Nicole hooks a thumb on a belt loop, head tilted as she looks at Willa.

Wynonna squints at her. “Why don’t you just go ahead and add on another wing to the house? I wouldn’t mind having a bigger bedroom.”

Willa flicks her arm. Wynonna sticks her tongue out at Willa in retaliation.

Nicole chuckles at their antics, leaning against one side of the kitchen entryway. “Don’t tempt me. It’d take a helluva lot of dinners to pay for that.”

Still rubbing her arm and ignoring Willa’s playful glare, Wynonna addresses Nicole. “Speaking of that, when are you cooking _us_ dinner? Waverly used to rave about your cooking.”

When Nicole doesn’t immediately respond and Willa’s glare turns serious, Wynonna knows she’s said something she shouldn’t. There’s nothing really new about that, though, she thinks.

She’s let off the hook when Nicole’s lips twist in a wry smile. “I’ll cook for you when Willa lets me use your kitchen. The one at my place is tiny.”

“Oh, is that what it is?” Willa crosses her arms and leans back against the counter, her eyebrows quirked up. “Well, then, Nic. Next dinner is on you.”

Watching them, for a moment, Wynonna wonders why it is that Nicole and Willa never hooked up. They seem like such a good fit—a better fit than Waverly and Nicole even—but then she remembers one of the serious talks she’d had with Willa her first week back.

_They’re curled up in Willa’s bed, pleasantly warm under a thick blanket and facing each other._

_“You’ve become such an amazing person Willa,” Wynonna whispers, pride and no small amount of awe in her voice._

_“I still have a bad temper, am stubborn as hell, and like whiskey a little too much,” Willa retorts with a gentle smile. “I’ve just learned to keep a better rein on things, I guess.”_

_Wynonna shakes her head, her arm reaching across the gap between them for her sister’s hand. She studies the differences; Willa’s hand is fuller and softer._

_“Why is it you’re not married and settled down with two-point-five-kids, white picket fence, a dog, and everything?”_

_Briefly, a shadow seems to cross over Willa’s face. There’s a pregnant pause._

_“I’ve just never had much of an interest in romance or sex. I… don’t think I ever will. All I’ve ever wanted was to come back to Purgatory, to make things right with you and Waverly. I think that’s all I need, Nona.”_

_Wynonna could almost mourn the loss of Willa never settling down to have kids of her own— she’d be a great mom, of that Wynonna is sure, but._

_“Whatever makes you happy, Wills. We can be two old biddies living together and grumbling about how the young people are ruining the world or whatever.”_

_Willa snorts and then reaches out to pinch Wynonna’s side. “Just because I’m not interested in that stuff, it doesn’t mean you have to give up all that to stay with me. I’ll be fine on my own, Nona.” Her eyes scrutinize Wynonna’s face carefully. “I know you want to fall in love, Nona. You always have.”_

_“Your love will be enough,” Wynonna insists stubbornly. When Willa only gives her an askance look, she averts her eyes. “I’m bad at the relationship thing, anyway.”_

_“I think you’re selling yourself short. You’re changing. Who knows what you’re capable of? You’ve never really given yourself a chance.”_

_Wynonna grunts, not liking where their discussion is headed. A thought strikes her, a grin slowly blossoming on her face._

_Quickly, before Willa can react, Wynonna tugs her pillow free from under her own head and slaps Willa across the face with it._

_“Wynonna!” Willa’s voice is muffled, but Wynonna can tell she’s trying not to laugh._

_Wynonna’s laughter is cut off by Willa’s return strike. She feels happier than she has in years._

She focuses on Nicole’s bemused expression, wagging a finger in her direction. “Now, now, Haught, no backing out. Food promises are serious promises.”

“I,” Nicole’s jaw works, “alright, fine. I can do that.”

“I look forward to it.” Willa’s smile makes her eyes crinkle up at the corners.

Seeing Nicole still looking slightly uncomfortable, Wynonna saunters over to slap her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Haught. If you get performance anxiety I’ll be right here, waiting to laugh at you.”

“Gee, thanks,” Nicole mutters as she scrunches her lips in an attempt not to smile.

“Anytime,” Wynonna says with a wink.

***

Three weeks is long enough, Nicole reasons as she paces in front of her truck. She’s tried to talk to Waverly several times over the last week, but every time Waverly has managed to slip away without really discussing anything. She’s tried to give Waverly space. Not knowing just doesn’t sit well with her.

She takes a deep breath and finds the stairs on the side of Shorty’s. Waverly’s usually home on Wednesday mornings, her time to catch up on house chores.

The knock seems loud to her own ears. She tucks her hands into her pockets. The air’s been getting cooler, necessitating the light jacket she’d thrown over her blue long sleeved shirt.

As she rocks back on the heels of her boots, the door opens.

“Nicole.” Waverly doesn’t look surprised or upset—or pleased. “Come on in.”

Nicole ducks her head and hunches her shoulders, her hands curling up in her pockets as Waverly opens the door wider to allow her in.

She’s expected disagreements, arguing. Not this… silence. Continued avoidance.

“Why don’t you have a seat?” Waverly says as they reach her tiny couch.

Nicole does as suggested, not ignoring the fact that Waverly chooses to sit on the small coffee table instead of at her side. She purses her lips.

Maybe she shouldn’t have come after all. “Waverly,” she starts. She opens her mouth to say more, but no sound emerges from her throat. _Jesus._

Waverly lets out a long sigh, the muscles in her jaw visibly tightening and loosening several times. “I think we should break up.”

“What—Waverly?” Even though Nicole’s half-expected it, it still comes as a shock.

“You heard me.” Waverly’s lips are downturned, her attention shifting to the fidgeting hands in her lap. “I was trying to figure out what’s changed, why I’ve been feeling so disconnected from you. After driving by the homestead and seeing your truck there _again_ , it finally clicked.” She takes in a breath and looks straight at Nicole. “I need someone who can put me first.”

Nicole blinks rapidly. “What? I so put you first.”

Waverly’s smile is small and sad. She shakes her head. “Not in the way I need you to, Nic. I… look, I have issues with my sisters. I love them to bits, but growing up it was like I didn’t exist. It was always Willa or Wynonna. And I know it’s not reasonable or mature, but it _is_ true. You’re… you take their sides a lot, you know? It’s not that you _need_ to pick a side, but sometimes I just need to vent or just a hug or something and you, just, you always have an opinion. A stance. It’s—we’re just not a good fit, Nic.”

“Does Rosita have anything to do with this?” Nicole snaps out. Yeah, Waverly had started acting a little different after Wynonna had returned to Purgatory, but Rosita had moved back only a few weeks before that.

“Really, Nicole?” Waverly huffs, her cheeks pink. “Okay, maybe a little, just not in the way you think. The night I kissed her I was just so _frustrated_. She’s actually already in a relationship and was trying to be nice. You got called in to help at a mix-up over at The Jack Shack, and you seem to really love hanging out with my sisters as much as I do and—god, I know that sounds terrible but I can’t help it.”

Nicole frowns. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“I _did_. Well, kind of.” Waverly’s attention returns to her fidgeting hands.

“ _Kind_ of? Waverly, I know you’ve been in other relationships, but that’s not how they work. We’re supposed to _talk_ about our problems. Neither of us are mind readers, and I can’t fix anything if you don’t tell me that it needs fixing!”

With that, Waverly’s head jerks up. She presses her lips into a thin line and her eyes seem hard. “Would you have stopped hanging out with my sisters if I’d told you it bothered me?”

“Yes,” Nicole says in reflex. “At least for a little while, until we could work though whatever problem.”

Waverly’s eyes narrow, a thoughtful expression on her face. “What about now, could you stop?”

“I,” Nicole’s voice trails off. She’s gotten closer to Willa, and even Wynonna, over the last few weeks. They’re her friends, some of the only people she’s comfortable around in Purgatory. It’s difficult being gay in such a small town. She swallows. “Probably not.”

“Then that’s it,” Waverly says in a flat voice.

Nicole feels a surge of anger at the quick dismissal. “ _Really_ , Waverly?”

Waverly’s hands slap loudly against the coffee table. “If you can’t pick me over them, then yes.”

Anger suddenly deflating, Nicole swallows again. She hadn’t really meant to… but, she had. A stubborn part of her insists she shouldn’t have to choose—but Waverly’s always had a difficult relationship with her family. Nicole had known that going in. Despite what Waverly’s said, Nicole still feels like Waverly’s crush on Rosita has something to do with the breakup.

“I’ll show myself out,” she mumbles bitterly as she staggers to her feet. Maybe it hurts a little less coming now after their _break_ , but she still feels like shit.

*

The next couple of days Nicole manages to force herself into going to work, but not much else. She just wants to sit and wallow a bit. Needs to, even.

It all goes well for those few days, though her apartment is definitely worse for wear since she possesses no will to clean.

The third night she’s all settled in on her couch and about to dig out the remains of yesterday’s Chinese when a loud pounding on the door pulls her from her apathetic stupor.

Ordinarily she might feel self-conscious answering the door in her grungiest, most ragged set of sweats, but she hasn’t felt much of anything since walking out of Waverly’s apartment.

She peeks into the peephole and frowns. “Not today, Wynonna.”

“Open the damn door, Haught.” Wynonna’s voice is muffled but clear.

Nicole contemplates just going to sit back down. She’s too tired to deal with nonsense.

“Open the damn door or I’ll keep pounding on it until you do.”

Scowling, Nicole throws back the locks and swings the door open. “I could arrest you, you know.”

Wynonna roughly pushes past her. “Oh jesus, it smells like the wrong side of a cow in here.” Her hand comes up to cover her mouth and nose.

Nicole grunts, not feeling the least bit embarrassed when Wynonna kicks at a small pile of discarded wrappers. “Why are you here, Wynonna?”

Wynonna carefully nudges some discarded food cartons on the table, scrunching up her nose when the smell suddenly gets worse. “You’re cooking me and Willa dinner tonight, remember?”

The memory of the promise comes back to Nicole abruptly. She winces. “Look, Wynonna, I’m really not up to it tonight—”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you feel up to, flatfoot. You promised Willa, so you’re doing it. Now, you gonna at least put some shoes on, or am I dragging you out of here barefoot?”

Nicole scowls and crosses her arms. “Damn hell if you’re doing either.”

“I dragged Emmet Gillory out of The Jack Shack, remember? Don’t test me, Haught.”

“I’ll arrest you,” Nicole tries again. She sounds more petulant than commanding to her own ears.

“Right, yeah. You can’t even bother to put real pants on but you’re gonna arrest me? Sure.”

The room is silent as they glare at one another. After several minutes, Nicole finally throws her hands up in the air. “Fine, whatever. You’re a thorn in my goddamn side, Wynonna Earp.”

Wynonna flutters her eyelashes coquettishly. “You sure know how to talk to a girl, Nicole.”

It isn’t until Nicole’s in her bedroom grumpily tugging on a clean shirt that she realizes Wynonna’s used her first name. For a moment, she softens.

“Hurry up, Haught! Though, not gonna lie, you smell like you could use a shower. Maybe we should just burn down your apartment while we’re at it,” Wynonna all but shouts from the other room.

“Don’t you touch a damn thing, Wynonna!” Under her breath she adds, “goddamn thorn in my side.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've now watched up to episode 9 of season 2. Still pretty happy with things - Rosita has been a pleasant surprise, as well as Jeremy and all the PoC that exist as more than just death fodder.
> 
> Update: I've finished season 2 and I'm furious with some choices they made so it's gonna be a while until I finish part 3.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One year, 627 gay panics later, we have the final chapter. I made sure not to watch the latest season before or during the completion of this one. I'm still angry tbh, but it's mellowed enough now for me to enjoy the things I enjoy about these two.
> 
> New tag added! Here is your obligatory sexual content warning.

* * *

It absolutely does not bother Nicole that a month after their break-up, Waverly begins dating Rosita. It doesn’t impact her decision to spend her next full day off out on the Earp homestead, undertaking a new personal project.

The nail, as stubborn as it’s been the last time she’d tried to hammer it down straight, goes in at an angle again. Gritting her teeth, Nicole flips the hammer to slide the claw under the nail head and yank the entire thing out.

A low whistle and a slow clap from behind make her stiffen.

Angrily, she throws the nail into the metal trash can she’s been using to discard scraps in. “Not now, Wynonna.”

“Nah,” Wynonna says flippantly, “I think right now is perfect.”

Nicole turns on the heel of her boot, ready for another fight.

Wynonna ignores her, hands on her hips as she stares up through the unfinished framework to admire the sky. “Gorgeous day,” she says when Nicole remains silent.

Frustrated at Wynonna’s lack of will to fight, Nicole only grunts and tugs one of her work gloves off. She runs a hand over her hair, knowing a few wisps have escaped her ponytail.

“You know, when I joked you should build a new wing of the house I didn’t think you’d actually do it. It’s not a bad start, either.”

“Is there a reason you’re here, Wy?” Nicole finally huffs out.

Wynonna finally looks Nicole in the eye, studying her. “Want some help?”

“Nope.” Nicole rolls her eyes and turns to get back to work, tugging her missing glove back on. She drops a hand to the pouch of her tool belt and retrieves another nail.

“Great,” Wynonna says brightly. The sound of her retreating boots has Nicole releasing a sigh of relief.

Two minutes later, Wynonna is back and grumbling under her breath.

Nicole twists her head and watches with a raised eyebrow as Wynonna shrugs out of her leather jacket. Realization makes Nicole’s lips twitch with amusement. “Willa sent you back out, huh?”

“Shut up, Haught.”

“Make me, Wy.”

“You wish.” There’s a pause of silence. “Since I’m helping you build it, I only think it’s fair that the new room is mine.”

Nicole scoffs but continues hammering the next piece of wood into place.

“Unless you’re doing this so _you_ can move in, flatfoot.”

Briefly, something makes Nicole pause. The Earp homestead is peaceful, no neighbors or landlord pestering her to settle domestic disputes. Not to mention she adores Willa, and even likes Wynonna half the time. It’s a ludicrous idea.

“Nah. Would be nice to have a bed to sleep in when I stay over once in a while, though.” The admission is as close as she’ll get to the truth.

Wynonna clicks her tongue. “Mhm, yeah, sure.” There’s another pause. “So, you wanna tell me what to do so I can tell Willa I helped with something?”

Letting out an aggrieved breath, Nicole grudgingly acquiesces. “Fine. I’m almost done with the frame. It’ll go faster with an extra pair of hands. Come over on this end.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Wynonna acknowledges with a sloppy salute.

Nicole grunts. It’s going to be a long day.

Several hours later, with sore arms and a full belly, Nicole thinks the project is exactly what she needs. They hadn’t finished, but they’d certainly made a lot of headway. Willa had rewarded them both with homemade bread and stew. It had been perfect.

On the porch swing to her left, Wynonna and Willa giggle. Nicole smiles and closes her eyes. The Earp sisters had been exactly what she needed to combat her loneliness.

***

Wynonna stares up at the ceiling, hands clasped around her middle as Willa plays with her hair. She hums when Willa starts to lightly scratch her scalp, minutely adjusting her head against Willa’s shoulder. For the nth time, she marvels at how the homestead actually feels like _home_. It hadn’t felt like that much as a kid, especially not after their mom had disappeared. Willa had always been something like magic.

“Haught’s been over a lot,” Wynonna says after a while.

“Nicole likes it out here. Always has.”

“Probably.”

When Willa’s body shakes with gentle laughter, Wynonna rolls her eyes. “I still think she has a crush on you, Willa.”

Willa makes a noncommittal noise in her throat. “I think these days it has more to do with her feeling a little trapped in town.”

“Trapped? In Purgatory?” Wynonna gasps dramatically. “Never!” Reminded of her earlier thoughts, Wynonna purses her lips. “I know why she comes here. You’ve got this… I don’t know. This aura of comfort and home or something.”

Again, Willa shakes with laughter. “Thanks.”

For a moment, Wynonna leans a little harder into Willa. “I know you still feel guilty about not taking me in. Don’t. Seeing you like this? Happy? At peace? I’d travel the world another few decades if I had to.”

Willa clicks her tongue. “It’s a good thing you don’t. I like having you here.” She pauses. “I never let on, but sometimes it was difficult being out here alone.” Wynonna feels Willa shift, as if she’s looking up at the ceiling now, too. “It got hard, trying to put the ghosts of the past to rest. I was always grateful to have Nicole around. Having _you_ here?. I feel like we’ve finally made the home we deserved as kids, Nona.”

There’s a tight feeling in Wynonna’s chest as her eyes continue to trace faint patterns in the wood grain far above their heads. She reaches down and squeezes Willa’s knee. “Yeah,” she says in a low, soft voice. Her hand lingers for a few heartbeats, and then she sighs and lets go of the moment. “I guess it hasn’t been all bad, having Nicole around.”

“She’s making good progress on the addition to the house. You helping makes it go a little faster, too.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Willa.”

“What’s that, Nona?”

Wynonna scrunches up her face and waves her hands in the air. “Making us spend time together so we bond, or whatever.”

“Would I ever do that?”

“Yes, you would.”

“You’re right, I would.”

When Willa presses a quick kiss to the top of her head, Wynonna smiles.

Willa sighs and begins playing with her hair again. “I’m glad you’re giving her a chance.”

As Wynonna thinks of the day before, of the few quiet laughs she and Nicole had managed between working, she sighs. “Mm.”

***

“Goddammit, Wynonna!” Nicole isn’t sure where the anger comes from, the sudden spark of it igniting as she’d exited her cruiser and seen Wynonna standing under the isolated light of The Jack Shack.

“Well hello to you too, flatfoot.” Wynonna smiles and then winces, the movement no doubt causing her split lip and the bruised portion of her face to hurt worse. On either side of her are two men, both slumped over and looking equally worse for wear.

Nicole tightens her jaw as she slams the door of the cruiser shut and rounds its front. “Where’s Devon?”

Wynonna lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Called in sick.”

“So you’re working alone on Ladies’ Night? Well that’s _safe_ ,” Nicole hisses out.

“Can you just cuff them and get this over with? I’ve kind of had a long night and closing isn’t for another hour.” There’s a slight smile curling Wynonna’s lips but her eyes have gone hard to match the pugnacious tilt of her chin.

The burn of anger lingers in Nicole’s gut as she stalks back to her cruiser to retrieve a second set of cuffs, resolutely turning back and restraining the two sulking men. They’re drunk and tired and beaten up, and thankfully don’t put up much of a fight as Nicole settles them in the back seat. By the time she finishes, her anger has almost completely faded.

“Mercedes tried to get someone to fill in for Devon, but it turns out most people would rather have fun than stay sober and play babysitter to a bunch of drunks. Who knew?” Wynonna says as she stares up at the stars, her arms crossed over her chest.

Nicole tugs off her hat and runs a hand over her hair. She hadn’t had the patience for a braid that morning, instead opting for a simple low tail. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I don’t know why I did.”

Wynonna’s lips twitch. After a few beats, she sighs and finally meets Nicole’s eyes again. “Willa won’t like seeing me like this.”

Understanding, Nicole nods and hooks a thumb over her duty belt. She breathes slowly. “I’ve got some arnica in my glovebox, if you want.”

“Want,” Wynonna says without hesitation.

Nicole nods again. She knows Wynonna is no stranger to pain, just as much as she knows it’s the thought of upsetting Willa that has Wynonna agreeing so quickly to _her_ offer of assistance. She retrieves the tube of arnica without a fuss, silently handing it over. For a fleeting moment, she considers offering to apply it for Wynonna. Instead, she clears her throat. “Go ahead and keep that. I have several. Helps with the hazards of the job.”

“Thanks,” Wynonna says as she waves the tube in the air. “Hey, you think Willa will give me time off from helping you with the house?”

Snorting, Nicole puts her hat back on and shakes her head. “Hope the rest of your shift goes better, Wynonna.”

“I’m sure it will. Chicks dig the tough look,” Wynonna says with an eyebrow wiggle and another wave of the tube of arnica. She disappears inside before Nicole has time to process her parting statement.

“Oh.” Nicole tips her hat back to rub her forehead. “Shit.”

***

Wynonna frowns in concentration as she examines the finished wall. “Huh,” she says as she places her hands on her hips. Somehow, she’d helped do that.

“We’re not done yet, you know. You wanna stop wasting time?”

Unseen by Nicole, Wynonna rolls her eyes. She silently mimics Nicole speaking, rolling her eyes again for good measure.

“Wynonna, seriously. I want to finish this before _next year_.”

“Jesus, Haught,” Wynonna says as she twists around. “What the hell crawled up your ass and died? You’ve been pissy all afternoon.”

Nicole’s lips part as if she’s going to say something, only to press tighter together. Her jaw visibly flexes.

Suddenly glad Willa had left a short while ago to run errands, Wynonna scowls. They’ve been getting along. She’d even thought that maybe they’d be friends, or something. She should’ve known better.

“Come on, it’s not like I picked a fight with those guys. I was just doing my job.” Self consciously, Wynonna lightly touches the yellowing bruise encompassing most of the left side of her face. It doesn’t really hurt anymore, at least.

“Let’s just get back to work,” Nicole says without looking at Wynonna.

Wordlessly, Wynonna resolves to do just that. Nicole’s directions are blunt and don’t invite idle chatter. As they work, unease grows in Wynonna. She should be mad, not… upset that Nicole is behaving more like she had the first time she’d met Wynonna. So what if Nicole had been nice a few times, even smiled at her?

What had Wynonna done to mess it all up?

Almost immediately, Wynonna becomes angry with herself. She’s done seeking others’ approval. All she needs is Willa’s, dammit.

So when she slips and accidentally bumps into Nicole, she snaps. “Watch what you’re doing, flatfoot.”

“Are you serious?” Nicole responds, sounding pissed.

It’s just what Wynonna needs. She spins so she’s looking directly at Nicole. “No, that’s your job. Being serious, all the time. Being a goddamn buzzkill and making everyone around you as miserable as you are.”

Nicole’s eyes, burning with anger, narrow. “Well we can’t all be the life of the party, drinking enough for a whole football team and fucking half the town.”

Wynonna smiles and makes a point of fluttering her eyelashes. “That’s an exaggeration. I’ve fucked maybe… a quarter of the town.” She ignores the dig about her drinking. She’s been doing good, dammit.

“Because that’s _so_ ,” Nicole widens her eyes for effect, “much better.”

“What’s this really about, Haught shit? You mad at me, or the fact that my little sister is probably off somewhere fucking Rosita’s brains out instead of yours?”

When Nicole almost immediately deflates, a wounded look appearing as she turns away, Wynonna thinks that maybe she’s gone too far. Nicole had been acting like an asshole. She shouldn’t feel bad.

Except she does. “Shit,” she says under her breath as she reaches out to place a soft hand on Nicole’s shoulder.

Nicole stiffens, and then slowly turns back to face Wynonna.

Wynonna studies her, monitoring the minute changes in Nicole’s features.

And then Nicole is jerking forward, a furrow between her eyebrows and her dark, unfathomable eyes intently focused on Wynonna’s mouth.

The look makes Wynonna hold her breath, preparing for something hard and angry and borne of a need for retaliation.

But Nicole stops, millimeters shy of her lips. Wynonna can feel whispers of Nicole’s breath against her mouth, like warm tantalizing secrets waiting to be shared.

Slowly, Nicole angles her head. Wynonna’s lips part just before the first contact.

 _Oh_ , how she’ll probably regret this later.

Nicole’s gentle hands rove up and down her back as they kiss, before finally settling on her ass. Wynonna feels the pressure and moves on instinct, allowing herself to be picked up and wrapping her legs around Nicole’s hips. Nicole’s mouth is hot and restless against her skin.

 _Maybe_. Maybe she’ll regret this later, she thinks as she pulls the hem of Nicole’s shirt up.

***

Nicole isn’t sure what time it is. Her blinds and drapes are closed, allowing little, if any, light to filter into the room from outside. The lamp on the nightstand is casting the interior of her room in soft orange hues.

The warm color makes Wynonna, naked and on all fours atop Nicole’s mattress, seem all the more tantalizing.

She pants as she leans forward and bites Wynonna’s shoulder. Wynonna gasps and throws her head back, a few dark strands fluttering in the air to tickle Nicole’s face. Nicole keeps thrusting her hand, enjoying the feel of Wynonna slowly tightening around her fingers as their bodies undulate together.

“Shit,” Wynonna hisses as her back arches and she pushes back _hard_ into Nicole’s hand.

The clenching of muscles and gush of wetness around her fingers unmistakeable, Nicole makes sure to press soft kisses up and down the parts of Wynonna’s back and shoulder she can reach.

Wynonna begins to slow and Nicole follows suit, uncaring that her own desire remains unfulfilled—being the cause of Wynonna’s pleasure gives her an immense sense of satisfaction.

As Wynonna shifts and pushes up so she’s just on her knees, Nicole sways back to give her room. About to ease away, Nicole is surprised when Wynonna reaches back to wrap an arm around her neck.

“Just a sec, Nic,” Wynonna murmurs just before she pushes her ass against Nicole and begins to roll her hips. Nicole arches into the movement on instinct and groans. It doesn’t take more than a few heartbeats, and then Nicole is panting and wrapping her arms tightly around Wynonna’s middle as she comes.

There’s a smile in Wynonna’s voice when she says, “Mm. Better.”

Nicole tries to catch her breath, her chin resting on Wynonna’s shoulder. Unsure what to say, she nods. Their bodies are sticky with sweat, making the moment Wynonna peels away a distinct sensation. Nicole couldn’t say she’s happy with the loss, but her mind is fuzzy and her mouth is dry. She tugs a hand through her loose hair and glances at the clock.

“We’re supposed to be back for dinner soon,” Wynonna helpfully reminds Nicole as she climbs off the bed and heads to the bathroom.

Still feeling dizzy, Nicole nods again and tries to moisten her lips. She checks the time on the digital clock, the numbers seeming out of focus. She squints and then nods for the third time. They’ve been here a few hours, which explains her level of dehydration. Naked, she heads to the kitchen and fills a glass with water to guzzle down. It’s on her second glass that her mind begins to function again.

She’s hit with an urge to join Wynonna in the shower, but knows they really don’t have time. Maybe, too, it might be a little too intimate for… whatever it is they’ve been doing. After the first time a few weeks ago, they’d ignored it, pretended like it had never happened. It had been easier that way.

Then Nicole had found her way out to The Jack Shack on one of her nights off. She’d gone down on Wynonna in a supply closet.

They didn’t bother with explanations or excuses, or much talking at all. Nicole thinks that maybe for Wynonna it’s just scratching an itch.

For Nicole, it’s beginning to feel a bit like an addiction.

“Shower’s yours,” Wynonna calls out from the bedroom.

“Kay,” Nicole calls back as she sets the glass down. They don’t look at one another as she passes through her room, back to pretending they’re only grudging acquaintances who occasionally fuck.

When Nicole hesitates at the door to the master bath and glances back, she becomes angry with herself. She heads in and firmly closes the door, running her hands over her face as she tries to restore her sense of equilibrium. Wynonna’s scent is still heavy on her hand, leaving her feeling as off-kilter as before. She shouldn’t be so damn happy to see Wynonna in her room doing something as mundane as brushing her hair.

“That’s not what this is,” she mumbles to herself as she steps into the shower.

What it actually is, she still doesn’t know.

***

Wynonna often thinks that what she does is written on her face. Most people don’t bother looking so she usually doesn’t worry, but then Willa isn’t most people.

“Pass the rolls, please.”

She and Nicole both reach for the plate at the same time, their hands brushing in an eager attempt to fulfil Willa’s request. Wynonna jerks back and tries to hide her grimace with a smile. How did she act around Nicole before? She doesn’t remember.

Sometimes it’s hard to remember anything but how gentle Nicole’s touch is, how dark her eyes look just before she kisses Wynonna. It’s for that very reason that Wynonna tries to avoid kissing Nicole as much as possible. That is, except for when she really can’t help herself. Which, admittedly, is very often.

Willa meets Wynonna’s eyes as she accepts the rolls from Nicole.

Wynonna swallows. Willa knows her too well. Dammit.

Panic makes her stomach tight, the feeling growing and spreading through her body.

Then Willa’s hand, soft and reassuring, finds its way to her knee under the table. She looks at Wynonna a second longer, and then smiles and focuses on her food.

Wynonna reaches out and squeezes Willa’s hand before it’s pulled away.

That makes one sister that won’t hate her forever for it. Wynonna’s lucky that Waverly has been so preoccupied with Rosita. She’s met them for lunch or a drink a time or two, but of course has never told Nicole that.

Sometimes, against her own better judgement, Wynonna wonders if Nicole is still completely hung up on Waverly. Wynonna knows what this is for Nicole—revenge, in its own sweet little way, for Waverly’s wandering affection.

She’s certain Nicole doesn’t even particularly _like_ her. But, _oh_ , how she likes Nicole. Way too much.

Trust Wynonna to fuck another thing up. She’s always been her own worst enemy.

God, she wants a drink.

Willa asks Nicole something, who immediately responds with a smile, one wide enough to make her dimple appear.

Wynonna licks her lips and then pushes up from the table. “I forgot to get a drink,” she says, completely ignoring the full glass of water next to her plate.

If either Willa or Nicole gives her an odd look, Wynonna doesn’t know. She’s not looking at either of them. The kitchen, and its temporary refuge, beckons.

*

Nicole’s brow furrows with worry as Wynonna escapes to the kitchen. Though she’s aware Wynonna hasn’t completely stopped drinking alcohol, she also knows that it’s only a matter of time. Wynonna’s only been drinking enough to keep the shakes away.

About to find some excuse to join Wynonna in the kitchen, she’s surprised when Willa speaks up.

“She’s more fragile than she seems, you know.”

Nicole blinks slowly and looks at Willa. “Pardon?”

Willa tilts her head, her expression neutral. “Wynonna.”

“Okay,” Nicole says with a dawning understanding.

It isn’t until she looks Willa in the eye that something suddenly changes.

Willa’s expression is hard. Maybe it’s how her eyes are shuttered, or the subtle whitening of her knuckles as she grips her fork and knife that fills the moment with an ominous tension. Whatever it is, Nicole finds herself straightening her back. She thinks this is what Willa could have been like in another universe, if Willa hadn’t found her way to peace.

“Wynonna wasn’t wrong, was she? You’re sweet on us Earps.” Willa slightly leans forward. “Be careful not to piss us all off, hm?” The menacing air around Willa suddenly disappears, her usual serene smile back. “Be good to her.”

Unsettled at the rapid change but understanding the clear warning, Nicole murmurs her agreement and stands. “I’ll be right back.”

She can feel Willa’s eyes on her the entire way to the kitchen. It’s with some relief that she ducks inside and out of sight—only to realize that Wynonna isn’t there. There’s no movement in the rest of the house, either.

With a sigh, she heads for the back door.

*

White gusts of air escape Wynonna with every step, a soft accompaniment to the steady thud-crunch of her boots on the dirt road. At least she hadn’t taken her coat off during dinner.

Ahead of her is all darkness, only vague shapes of trees with naked limbs welcoming—or maybe warning—her to the night. She isn’t sure exactly how long she’s been walking. She doesn’t care.

The homestead, with the low sounds of both Willa and Nicole, had become stifling. She was going to ruin everything. Maybe she already had.

Why is it she can never really allow herself to be happy for long? Why is she always so scared? A shrink could probably tell her in a minute. ‘ _Well, Wynonna_ ,’ the balding old man would say, ‘ _you’re just completely fucked up_.’

“Sounds about right,” she mutters to herself. The cold has begun to seep deep into her bones, even with her legs constantly moving. She digs her hands deeper into the pockets of her coat, wishing the leather had a thicker interior. Her cheeks are pricking with cold-pain, her nose slowly going numb.

Willa doesn’t hate her. Waverly will. She’s certain Nicole doesn’t even like her most of the time.

Her hand had been on the bottle of bourbon Willa kept on the top shelf of the last cabinet. It had been tempting. So fucking tempting. She’d practically _drooled_ at the thought of obliterating the awareness of her anxieties. It was hard being fun-Wynonna when she constantly felt like she would be crushed under the weight of her thoughts.

A sound in the distance startles her. She’s used to the sounds of small wildlife, of trees creaking, and soft winds whistling over the landscape. The echoing thud-thud-thuds, becoming louder and louder, are out of place. Heart pounding, Wynonna picks up her pace and swerves off the road. As mixed-up as she is, she’s not going to become victim-number-whatever for whatever animal or person.

She waits in the underbrush, tense and alert.

A beam of light catches her attention, flickering back and forth on the surface of the road in a sway of motion. It comes closer, just as the thudding does.

She sucks in a surprised breath of recognition. “Jesus _Christ_ , Nicole! What the hell is wrong with you, running around like that in the middle of the night?!”

Nicole abruptly stops jogging, her flashlight flicking over to where Wynonna’s hiding on instinct.

“ _Nicole!_ ” Wynonna near-shouts, one hand up to block the sudden brightness.

“Why the hell are you hiding in a bush?”

Wynonna lowers her hand as the beam of light is redirected to her feet. “Well, Nicole, I heard someone or something _stomping up_ _behind me_.”

Softly panting, Nicole nods and runs her free hand over her hair. “Fair enough.”

The flashlight, not focused on either of them, is still enough for Wynonna to make out enough of Nicole’s features. She swallows and awkwardly crosses her arms. “So, uh, what are you doing out here?”

Nicole takes a step closer. Her eyes are focused on Wynonna’s face. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Mouth dry, Wynonna licks her lips and clears her throat. She cocks her hip and studies the trunk of the nearest tree. “Oh, you know, just out for a nature walk.”

“We were in the middle of dinner.”

“Well, Nicole, when nature calls sometimes you’ve just gotta listen.” Wynonna winces and makes a face. “That didn’t come out right.”

Nicole takes a few more steps closer. Wynonna rubs her throat, wondering if her heart is pounding enough to show in her jugular. It’ll be fine as long as she doesn’t look directly at Nicole.

“What’s wrong, Wynonna?”

“Nothing.” If she just focuses on her breathing…

When Nicole sighs and finally stops an arms-length away, Wynonna has to try a hundred times harder to concentrate.

“Wynonna, come on. We can talk, can’t we?”

Wynonna bites her lip hard enough to taste iron. Nicole’s boots are shifting ever closer. “I’m pretty sure we do everything but talk.”

“Is that what this is about?”

Nicole is nearly chest-to-chest with her now, the warmth softly emanating from Nicole’s body too alluring for Wynonna’s liking. She’s just cold.

“Nope.” Wynonna’s eyes are burning with the effort it takes not to look at Nicole.

“Then look at me,” Nicole challenges.

Wynonna purses her lips and braces herself. She’s not _scared_.

When her gaze connects with Nicole’s and her heart begins pounding even harder, she freezes. She is scared. She is _absolutely_ scared.

Nicole is studying Wynonna, a subtle furrow between her eyebrows. “Look, Wynonna, I don’t know what you’re feeling or thinking. I kind of figured I was just another person for you to hook up with, but I guess it’s time I’m honest. I like you, Wynonna. A lot. I’d like to do other things with you. Dating-kind of things.” She purses her lips and temporarily glances away. “I’m sorry if that scares you. I’ll give you space, if you want.”

“Do what now?” Wynonna blurts out with wide eyes.

“Nothing,” Nicole says as she takes a step back and looks down at her boots. “Nevermind.”

Without thinking, Wynonna reaches out and grabs both sides of Nicole’s jacket, pulling her back. The unexpected move makes Nicole stumble, falling slightly back into Wynonna.

Wynonna’s throat works, her eyes sliding shut when Nicole’s forehead dips to rest against her own. She gentles her grip, sliding her hands down so they’re inside Nicole’s jacket pockets. “I don’t think I’ve ever really dated,” Wynonna quietly admits. “Are you sure… with _me_?”

“Yes,” Nicole instantly replies.

“Okay.” Wynonna’s voice is still muted, like if she speaks too loud it’ll fracture the moment. Has she entered some surreal version of the world? “I know this is probably some crazy rebound thing and Waverly—”

“No.” Nicole’s hand is suddenly cupping her face. “She has nothing to do with this, Wy. This is just about you and me.”

Wynonna’s hands ball up in Nicole’s pockets. Her throat feels thick. “Okay,” she repeats.

She feels the subtle shifting of Nicole’s head, her breath catching until Nicole’s mouth is pressed tenderly against hers. The contact is brief but leaves her feeling giddy.

When Nicole smiles, she can feel it against her lips.

“Come on,” Nicole coaxes as she takes a half step back. Her hand goes inside her pocket and gently pulls Wynonna’s free, then threading their fingers together. “Let’s head back.”

Wynonna bobs her head, still wondering when she’ll wake up. It isn’t until they’re on the trail back to the homestead that she realizes she hasn’t gone crazy, and isn’t dreaming.

The lights are all on, the warm yellow-orange hues casting an inviting path to the house she’s finally considering home. Hand-in-hand, they both slow when they spot a figure on the porch.

Willa is leaning against the wall to one side of the door, a large grin on her face.

Wynonna’s return grin is instantaneous. Nicole squeezes her hand and increases their pace.

“Welcome back,” Willa says as they reach the porch, her grin becoming a lopsided smile.

Overwhelmed, Wynonna can only nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long, strange road. Luckily, both Wynonna and I were able to find our way. There are no perfect happy endings, but I do think Wynonna, Nicole, and Willa of this universe will be alright. 
> 
> Eventually Waverly too, in case you were the kind of person to wonder about that.


End file.
